BJ 1571 
.S6 
Copy 1 






M 








%o?ryrr?9&<*M. 



/ 



MY BOOK 

OR, 

THE ANATOMY OF CONDUCT, 

BY 

JOHN HENRY SKELTON. 



" I must have liberty 

* * * * * * * 

To blow on whom I please ; — — — 

The wise man's folly is anatomiz'd 

Even by the squand'ring glances of a fool. 

Invest me in my motley ; giye me leave 

To speak my mind,«akd I wal through and through 

Cleanse the foul body of the uifected world, 

If they will patiently rlcflS>e my medicine." 

Shakspeare. 



" The most difficult province in friendship is the letting a man see his 

faults and errors, which should, if possible, be so contrived that he may 

perceive our advice is given him, not so much to please ourselves, as for his 

own advantage." 

Budgell. 



" Hail, ye small, sweet courtesies of life, for smooth do ye make the road 
of it ! Like grace and beauty, which beget inclinations to love at first sight » 
'tis ye, who open the door, and let the stranger in." 

Sterne. 



Hoirtron : 
SIMPKIN AND MARSHALL, 

STATIONERS' HALL COURT. 

1837. 



\ 









LONDON : 
PRINTED BY T. BRETTEL1, RUPERT STREET, HAYMARKET. 



DEDICATION TO THE PUBLIC. 



The public will please to bear in mind that 
society is so divided, — and again sub-divided, — 
(like Proteus, or the kaleidoscope, so various 
and changeful are the forms it assumes), that 
to many — much that this volume contains will 
appear trifling and unimportant, while to others 
it may be valuable information. Those who 
move in good society, will admit that they owe 
their deportment to the usages of bon ton. — 
Graceful manners are not intuitive, — so he, who 
through industry — or the smiles of fortune — 
would emulate a polite carriage, — must be 
taught not to outrage propriety. Many topics 
herein considered have been discussed more or 
less gravely or jocosely, according as the subject- 
matter admitted the varying treatment. I would 



that with propriety much might be expunged — 
but that I felt it is all required from the nature 
of the work. The public is the tribunal to 
which I appeal ; — not friendship, — but public 
attestation must affix the signet to " My Book's 17 
approval or Condemnation. Sheridan, when 
manager of Drury, was known to say, — he had 
solicited and received the patronage of friends 
— but from the public only had he found 
support. So may it be with me! 



PREFACE. 



For years, when I have observed any thing 
in false taste, I have remarked that when " My 
Book " makes its appearance, such anomaly will 
be discontinued, — and, instead of an angry 
reply, it has ever been — what are you writing 
such a work ? till at length in several societies — 
" My Book " has been referred to whenever 
une meprise has taken place ; — as thus, — " ' My 
Book ' is indeed wanted," — or " if ' My Book ' 
were here,"— or " we shall never be right without 
' My Book,' " — which led me to take minutes of 
the barbarisms I observed. I now give them to 
the world, — from a conviction that a rule of 
conduct should be studied, and impressed upon 
the mind ; — other studies come occasionally into 



tm PREFACE. 

play, — but the conduct — the deportment — and 
the manner — are ever in view — and should be a 
primary consideration, — and by no means left to 
chance, (as at present,) " whether it be good, or 
whether it be evil. 1 ' 

Most books that have appeared on this vital 
subject, have generally been of a trashy nature, — 
intended, one would imagine, if you took the : 
trouble to read them, as advertisements to this 
trade, — or for that man, — this draper,-r-or that 
dentist, instead of attempting to form the mind, 
— and leaving the judgment to act. 

To Lord Chesterfield other remarks apply ; — 
but Dr. Johnson has so truly and so wittily cha- 
racterized in few words that heartless libertine's 
advice to his son — that, without danger of cor- 
rupting the mind, you cannot place his works 
in the hands of youth. 

It should ever be kept in our recollection — 
that a graceful carriage, — a noble bearing, — and 
a generous disposition, — to sit with ease and 
grace, must be enthroned " in the mind's eye '"' 
on every virtuous sentiment. Truth must hold 



her swayy — for if in after age, it should be 
remarked you had broached such or such a sen- 
timent, you might fearlessly reply, — " Sir, I 
could not, for I never thought it.''' With prin- 
ciples such as these, and religion, which shows 
itself in our every action, we should not be far 
from that line of conduct — which would be 
equally gratifying to ourselves, — pleasurable to 
our friends, — and honourable in a national point 
of view. The sons of Britain are still looked upon 
by her Continental brethren as wanting in esprit 
and maniere, — yet thus our iron mask of arro- 
gance and hauteur would be thrown aside, — and 
that assumption, which is produced by the posses- 
sion of wealth, so grievously portrayed in little 
minds, — would cease to be a crying evil in— and 
against — the nation. 

Remember, " in difficultatibus," to make 
" My Book" your system of conduct, — make 
it, in short, your own ; and the moment you 
remark " My Book 1 ' does not mention such an 
error, — that moment its efficacy begins; the 
a 5 



X PREFACE. 

merit of the work, if any, — is to teach you to 
think,— not of yourself alone, — but of yourself 
in relation with others. 

The greatest difficulty an author encounters, 
is the judicious choice of a name for his work ; 
first, that it may be attractive ; — and next, that 
it may be comprehensive ; — although Shakspeare 
says " A rose by any other name would smell 
as sweet,' 1 still in a human production, lacking 
the divine odour — the beautiful appearance — and 
the perfect structure, — name is of the greatest 
importance; it is, to the book — as grace and 
manner are to the man, — a first impression. 

I, therefore, think I have adopted with great 
discrimination " My Book," a name which every 
body has applied to every book that was ever 
written ; and the " Anatomy of Conduct " is 
highly comprehensive, — inasmuch as poor human 
nature may be completely dissected, — and most 
devoutly do I believe our conduct often requires 
" cutting up." We will, therefore, if you 
please, — and with your assistance, study compa- 



rative anatomy, — and if possible make an elegant 
man out of a Bear, — subdue the nature of the 
Ass, — and the Boar shall be made bearable. 

It has been subject of consideration with me 
whether I should class my notes, — or give them 
as they arose ; — I have at length resolved to give 
them, — as I find them, — as in some instances — 
the same subject is treated more than once ; — 
particularly certain vices that must be amended ; 
— it may perhaps then be more profitable to come 
upon them unexpectedly. 

I now send my bantling into the world, — but 
as he begins his literary career by cutting up the 
faults and foibles of others,— I may expect my 
offspring to be absolutely mangled in return ;— - 
all I can say in mitigation — is — " Do not split a 
butterfly on the wheel.'" 



PROLEGOMENA. 



When the mind turns its view inwards upon 
itself, the first idea that offers, says Mr. Locke, 
is thinking; how important, therefore, that 
a sound system of education should be adopted 
to control the young thought and " teach it 
how to shoot. 1 ' This would be most readily 
effectuated by enacting — that all instructors of 
youth be competent to the task ; as is the case 
in the medical profession ; — they should be sub- 
ject to examination, — and have a diploma ; — 
they should be infinitely better paid than they 
are, — and raised thereby in the scale of society. 

The world cry out in favour of the poor 
curate, with his large flock — and little pay, — 
but the case of the usher, — (often an educated 
man,) ever present with the boys, — half fed, — 
half clothed, — and famine in his face of wretch- 
edness, — frequently treated with contumely by 
the master, (an example the boys are sure to 
follow,) presses most urgently for consideration 



PROLEGOMENA. Xlll 

and sympathy. How can such a man, lacking 
the respect and love of those with whom he is 
ever present, direct the exuberance of youth ? 
How is he fitted to rear the tender mind ? — But 
exalt the under teacher in the scale of his being, 
the head master will treat him with more respect, 
and the scholars be restrained by his revered and 
loved presence. Education is thus generated 
by restraint, and that feeling, which now only 
begins with the youth's entrance into the 
world, — will become at school the guiding- 
spring of his conduct.; — and as it is uncertain 
in his path through life, at which gate he may 
enter, — and whom he may meet on the road, — 
how important that the principles he carries 
with him should stead him on occasion, — and 
profit him in need ! 

Let it be decreed, — that none in future be 
allowed to keep, or tend, schools but those who 
are proved competent by the sanction of certain 
examiners ; — and the schools be subject to visi- 
tation by authorised individuals at unexpected 
periods. — Make the education of youth a na- 



XIV PROLEGOMENA, 

tional concern ; the community will not feel 
aggrieved, but rather rejoice, that some enact- 
ment is framed, that insures to the parent or 
guardian the knowledge that they cannot choose 
improperly as to the acquirements of instruc- 
tors. (A) 

What a satisfaction to the public that the 
apothecary is not a mere vender of drugs, but, 
from his examination, may be consulted fear- 
lessly. The same safeguard must be thrownround 
the education of our youth ; — that the seed 
sown, — and the time expended, — in the morning 
of age, may not prove fruitless through the 
disqualification of teachers. How often is the 
destruction of our fond hopes caused — by the 
reckless conduct of the beloved child of our 
bosom ! and too frequently,— I fear me, — such 
conduct takes its rise — in the negligence and 
incapacity of instructors. 

Medical and general education is, in some 
respects, synonymous, — inasmuch as for- 
merly in the one it was an even chance 
whether we were killed or cured by the 



PROLEGOMENA. XV 

ignorance or information of the practitioner, — 
and in the other it is much the same order of 
chance, that the most valuable period of our 
existence*, — set apart for clearing and weeding 
the ground well, — and preparing it for the re- 
ception of the good seed, is not irretrievably 
lost through neglect, — to the death of our moral 
being. 

But when gentlemen approved for the office 
by their superior education, — by their general 
excellence of character, — and by mildness and 
suavity of manner, "assume the virtue 1 '' of 
cultivating and adorning the mind of youth, — 
when the summer of their days thuslblooms and 
fades in the important, — yet most arduous, 
irksome, and too often thankless task they 
undertake, — when even the "kindly winter'" 
of their life greets them still occupied in the 
one "thing needful,""— devoted to voluntary 
servitude for the benefit of mankind,— resigned 

* " Children generally hate to be idle ; all the care then is, 
that their busy humour should be constantly employed in 
something of use to them." 

Locke. 



XVI PROLEGOMENA. 

— nay cheerful — under the disposing hand of 
Heaven, 



" et amara lento 



Temperet risu," 

How can a parent, friend, or guardian of a 
member of his flock — show a sense of gratitude 
to such an individual for unremitting care — 
watchfulness — and attention ! Is pecuniary 
recompense sufficient ? I think not. The 
stream of gratitude is not to be stemmed by 
any such sordid obstruction. It may be said, 
however, — the instructor but discharges a duty 
self-imposed; — there is truth in the remark; 
— but where are the myriad admonitions, — firm 
yet tender, — where the ten thousand kindnesses 
the good master bestows upon his docile pupils? 
Count the reward of these. — Are these to be 
numbered and weighed with gold in the op- 
posite scale ? Let me not be misunderstood, — 
it is my wish and endeavour to prove that 
when we " pay the school-master's bill 11 we have 
yet to give him an acknowledgment of thanks. 
What fund s have we to meet this arrear ? Yet, 



PROLEGOMENA. XV11 

under the circumstances, how niggard are we 
in offering such remuneration. — Too commonly, 
— it is to be feared, — our gratitude takes wing 
— when the " Quarter's account'" is settled. The 
man of intellect is thus placed on a par with 
our hatter and haberdasher. The mighty mind 
that revels in ecstacy along " the fields of light," 
is brought from his " pride of place" to claim 
fellowship, in our esteem, with the mechanic or 
artisan. Is this a wholesome — a healthful state 
of things, — now that intelligence hath " stretched 
forth her branches unto the sea — and her boughs 
unto the river," when science and arts in 
ceaseless progression strengthen confirmation 
of their " seven-leagued" strides, — is this to 
continue ? 

A want of gratitude to the man of informa- 
tion evidences a want of respect ; although this 
with many may proceed from thoughtlessness; — 
such thoughtlessness is culpable ; for the man 
who has enlarged his understanding in constant 
commune with those who were " giants in the 



XV111 PROLEGOMENA. 

land," — by brotherly intercourse with the sages 
of old, — when to us he exhibits — nay gives us 
of the furniture " stored in his halls of memory," 
■ — is surely not undeserving respect; — our fore- 
fathers did not think so — in our generation shall 
we be less wise than they ? Herein at least let 
us imitate them; — -like ancient land-marks, — 
their authority is law. 

Something more is required than the thank- 
fulness of the student in after-life — to the 
director of his youthful days, — inasmuch as the 
changeableness of earthly things precludes the 
instructor from anticipating he can witness " the 
ripening beauties shine"" — his endeavours have 
been the means of producing. As in agricul- 
ture — the husbandman sows the seed in humble- 
ness of heart, — and supplicates for increase, — 
so let it be with us, — for frosts may nip the 
germ, — the blade may wither, — though the 
ground was worked well. 

Here let me seize this welcome occasion to 
pour out in offering my oblation of esteem upon 



PROLEGOMENA. XIX 

the shrine of my venerated preceptor*. What 
though the tomb encloses his mortal remains — 
the immortality of his " breathing thoughts'" is 
mine — mine is the boundlessness of respect for 
him — so long as I tenant this changing sphere. 
The bosoms of other survivors of his flock will 
gladly echo the truth of these words, — for whilst 
he was with us he was our soul's affection, — now 
we count him as the "just man made perfect.' 
When we describe the beauties of nature — 
we generally call art to our assistance, but in all 
the efforts of art — nature's works are our model » 
— thus — in ship building — we lay down the keel, 
and mathematically place the ribs, — taking the 
animal structure for our guide, both for sym- 
metry, — strength, — and beauty. Under the 
master-hand the bulwark rears its head — a 
mighty ship, — fit to buffet with the " deep 
waters ;" — with stores and crew, — and head-gear 
trimmed, — with flying colours it is launched, 
amid the cheers of an admiring crowd: — but 
ventures she to sea without a rudder, compass, 

* The late John Finlay, Esq. of Streatham Academy. 



XX PROLEGOMENA. 

maps, and charts? — Is her pilot ignorant of the 
course of currents ? — Knows he not the where- 
about of shoals and quick-sands. " When 
winds and seas conspire to overthrow," is not his 
information " a lantern to his paths," — so — the 
human being, " curiously and wonderfully 
made," is taken from the cradle, and passed 
through the schools,— but, in his progress, is he 
stored with that intellectual and spiritual food, 
which his divine nature craves and imperatively 
demands ? Are " his passion's host" under due 
restraint, — and when he plunges with the elas- 
ticity and buoyancy of youth into the mighty 
vortex of the world, — the hope, — the admiration 
of anxious friends, — is it fitting the young man 
pursue his course without helm or compass, and 
that he, — whose judgment from uncurbed 
passion, — is least under control, should have in 
every instance to draw his own chart ? — Hence 
arises the late period of life, before many come 
to a quiet haven,— and which many never find. 
Although, however, " My Book" — to speak 
generally — merely is at variance with bad habits, 



PROLEGOMENA. 



— and vile customs, — nevertheless I devoutly 
believe, should it be consulted in a proper 
spirit, — it will tend greatly not only to the im- 
provement of the manner, but to the edification 
of the mind; — ay, — and our fortunes may be 
benefitted thereby ; — for what is good and bad 
fortune, — but lucky and unlucky occasions 
seized or neglected, as the power and energy — 
or the weakness and irresolution of the mind — 
direct. 

That which, then, developes the mind, and 
brings its energies into action, teaches it to 
grapple with occasion, — and thereby not to 
throw away a chance, — as, by one act of vacilla- 
tion, a well-laid scheme of human policy may 
be overthrown, and a lost opportunity* never 
regained. — Brace your energies ! — " Screw your 
courage to the sticking place," and well not 
fail. 



* " Opportunity is in respect to time, in some sense, as time 
is in respect to eternity ; it is the small moment, the exact 
point, the critical minute, on which every good work so much 
depends." — Spratt's Sermons. 



XXU PROLEGOMENA. 

Give not yourself up to gross and detestable 
habits, — to irreligious and profane language, — 
and avoid especially the company of frivolous 
and ignorant individuals ; — rather, read con- 
stantly, — that you may be able to think and 
speak ; court also the society and conversation of 
the intellectual and intelligent, — then in any 
honest or praise- worthy pursuit — " we'll not 
fail," however high the flight. 

One word more before we proceed. As most, 
— if not all, — of the quotations are given from 
memory, — should any inaccuracy appear, — any 
interpolation or omission of the superior text of 
the original, — regard such error with a kindly 
eye, and extract from my book the utile, — if 
there be any, — and future editions, — (if you 
approve their publication,) shall clarify the 
dulce. 



MY BOOK. 



I. MAUVAISE HONTE. 

A gentleman looks in the face of his fellow- 
man, when he addresses him ; no one but a clown 
hangs down his head abashed ; — such demeanour 
it is absolutely painful to witness, but in throwing' 
it off, — beware of the reverse. 



II. IMPUDENCE. 

This is a most disgusting, as well as unfortu- 
nate deportment, — inasmuch as it offends every 
acquaintance, and cannot make a friend ;— rarely 
is it the accompaniment of talent, — for merit is 
ever retiring ; — so, as you loathe impudence in 
another, and are conscious of its affinity to igno- 
rance, watch with caution — lest, with subtle step, 
it creep upon yourself. 



MY BOOK. 



III. MODESTY. 



All hail thou sweet, — becoming grace, — bright 
attribute of genius ! — Thou pearl of precious 
price, that ever in the youngest and most beau- 
tiful, blooms with roseate blush ! — Just so dost 
thou mantle on the cheek of the talented, — and 
palpitate in the breast of the wooer. — Although 
in truth, the maiden^) need not shrink — the phi- 
losopher fear — nor the lover doubt — modesty ( 2 ) 
being a charm that adds worth to the whole, and 
" Throws a perfume on the violet." 



IV. THE RENCONTRE. 

When a gentleman with a lady on each arm 
meets friends or acquaintance, however great the 
respect he may have for the individuals he en- 
counters, or however important their favours and 
obligations towards him, propriety and etiquette 
nevertheless forbid his disengaging himself from 
the ladies, to take off his hat ; he merely bows 
en passant ; under such circumstances, to the 
King he could do no more. To the ladies take 
off your hat ; — to the men, according to your 
intimacy, — their age, — or station. 



MY BOOK. 



V. THE CARRIAGE. 

Madame la maitresse de maison must always 
occupy the right corner in the carriage. 

Should a gentleman offer you a seat therein, 
you avail yourself of his offer, — and he, either 
by word or action, request you to enter, — do not 
hang back with " after you, Sir." — This is re- 
prehensible. Shenstone's lines are herein not 
inapplicable : — 

" Sir, will you please to walk before?" 
" No, pray, Sir — you are next the door, 
" — Upon mine honour I'll not stir." 
" Sir, I'm at home ; consider, Sir." 
M Excuse me, Sir ; I'll not go first." 
" Well, if I must he rude, I must — 
But yet I wish I could evade it — 
'Tis strangely clownish, be persuaded." 
Remember there are situations in which good 
breeding makes it our duty promptly to comply. 
It is well known that a French King said of an 
English nobleman to whom he proffered a seat 
in his carriage, on the nobleman's entering in- 
stanter, His Majesty declared him the best-bred 
man in England. Promptitude may here be 
recommended, especially in the service of the 
sex ; — do we not view the gallant youth with 
envious admiration, who briskly raises the fallen 
fan, — or quick restores the snowy glove to its 
still fairer owner ? 



MY BOOK, 



VI. OF THE STAIKS. 



Should you in company with a lady be about 
to go up stairs, — and she intimate for you to pass, 
immediately ascend, and when at the top, I scarce 
need dictate what common sense and propriety 
show requisite, depending upon the situation, — 
place, — or intimacy of the parties; —you stop before 
entering the room, on the right of the door- way, 
bow slightly but gracefully, as to a superior 
being, then offer your arm, or follow her res- 
pectfully ; — forget not it is the respectful wooer 
who gains the wealthy or the high-born dame ; — 
once impress a woman with the idea of your 
respect for her virtues, — though their name be 
not legion, — still will she love you for it ; this 
brings in train, advice to 



the: lover. 



" Faint heart never won fair lady," so 'tis 
said; — yetlet me ask the successful wooer, (I speak 
not of the vain-glorious who vaunt of favours 
unbestowed,) if he did not follow the lady of 
bis love in the first bloom of passion, with tender 
jsolicitude( 3 ) and anxiety ? Whether his fond mis- 
givings were not indeed part and parcel of his 



love — the fuel to his flame ? Are not doubts 
and fears as much our lot before marriage, as 
affection and constancy are our portion when 
the knot is tied. Above all, use assiduity in 
good offices to the fair, — this unlocks dear wo- 
man's heart. 

" Attention by attention gain, 
And merit care by care, 
So shall the nymph reward your pain, 
And Hymen crown your prayer." 



VIII. THE SMOKER. 

The filthy habit of smoking ( 4 ) tobacco, now 
practised to such an extent, amounts to an abso- 
lute absurdity ; the peer and the apprentice 
equally rejoice in it ; the former thereby glory- 
ing in his approximation to the groom, and the 
latter in his approach to the gentleman. With a 
cigar in the mouth — to me it seems the patri- 
cian and the plebeian are more upon a level than 
political projects can bring them. 

Ladies should particularly order that their ser- 
vants do not smoke, — so that if a person redolent 
of tobacco approach them, he may immediately 
be known as a modern gentleman. — The foul 
odours of tobacco are now-a-days to ambush, like 
cupids, about the " toga" of the gentleman only. 



MY BOOK. 



OF DRESS. 



Think not that attention to dress is to be dis- 
regarded. No! that which first attracts notice 
are neat habiliments, arranged with taste. — For 
my part, I can scarcely deem it a weakness of 
the understanding, that we are induced to listen 
more attentively, and pay greater deference to 
the individual when his clothes appear neat and 
becoming ; — cleanly of course they are, — for no 
gentleman wears unclean attire. Thus the gar- 
ment, in a manner, is a passe-partout ; and 
many a man of genius is excluded from " the 
set," because his coat is pas comme ilfaut. 



X. OF LADIES DRESS. 

The presumption of describing how a lady 
should be dressed, will not be hazarded here ; 
but she must not be gaudily attired, if she value 
herself and the world's good opinion ; — she must 
be dressed in a simple and modest manner ; — 
neatness to the greatest nicety, cannot be too 
much commended ; — it is that which meets gene- 
ral approval from " all sorts of men ;"" — it is a 
primary recommendation ; it denotes a correct 



MY BOOK. 7 

mind, and intimates order in the management of 
affairs. 

English ladies should not be offended that 
les Parisiennes ridicule them for wearing, at the 
same time, some half dozen ill-assorted colours. 
My dear countrywomen may, in this matter, 
with safety take a lesson from our neighbours 
across the Channel. 



XI. MORNING CALLS. 

Receive visitors at once ; — the custom of de- 
taining your friends and acquaintance obtains 
not at present, so much as it did, even within 
the writer's recollection. All parties will agree 
it is a happy reform ; nevertheless many ladies, 
I fear, often hasten to the toilette, when they 
should immediately make their appearance to 
welcome their friends. I must take the liberty 
of telling my fair readers, — this is not as it should 
be. If, however, the visitor call at an unsea- 
sonable hour — too early or too late — from this 
dereliction of etiquette, he must be the sufferer ; 
and, nolens volens, be liable to any infliction the 
visited party choose to put upon him. The 
hours for making calls vary according to the 
class of society in which one moves. A little 
inquiry and reflection, will inform you on this 
point. 



MY BOOK. 



XII. OF WHIST. 



To be done with propriety, every thing mast 
be done quietly. When the cards are dealt 
round, do not sort them in all possible haste, 
and having performed it in a most hurried 
manner, clap your cards on the table, looking 
proudly round, conscious of your own supe- 
riority. I speak to those in good society, — not to 
him who making cards his trade has his motive 
in thus hurrying, — that he may remark the coun- 
tenances of those with whom he plays ; that he 
may make observations in his mind's eye from 
what passes around, and use those observations 
to suit ulterior ends. 



XIII. OF FALSE SHAME. 

Observe guilt, — and then you will know that 
shame belongs to nothing else ;■ — misfortune is 
hard to be borne, but when originating in crime 
it is absolutely intolerable — " a guilty conscience, 
who can bear ?" — weighed in this balance, mis- 
fortune, as the counterpoise, is a feather in the 
scale. 

" Sweet are the uses of adversity." 

Misery may be alleviated, — nay altogether 



MY BOOK. 9 

removed, and " heart-easing" mirth succeed, — 
but " a sinner shall through much tribulation 
enter into the kingdom, of heaven." 11 



XIV. OF CONSCIENCE. 

" Do unto others — as ye would that others 
should do unto you :" — this truly Christian pre- 
cept, if acted upon in singleness of heart, — will 
keep the conscience ( 5 ) unspotted from the world. 

" Ay but to die, and go we know not where ; 
To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot : 
This sensible warm motion to become 
A kneaded clod, and the delighted spirit 
To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside 
In thrilling regions of thick ribbed ice ; 
To be imprison'd in the viewless wind, 
And blown with restless violence about 
The pendent world.: or, to be worse than worst 
Of those, that lawless and uncertain thoughts 
Imagine howling ! 'tis too horrible ! 
The weariest and most loathed worldly life, 
That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment 
Can lay on nature, is a paradise 
To what we fear of death." — Shakspeare. 



XV. OF HYPOCRISY. 



The only evil which walks 



Invisible except to God alone." — Milton. 

b5 



10 



XVI. OF READING. 

" Though reading and conversation may furnish us with 
ideas of men and things, yet it is our own meditation must 
form our judgment." — Watts. 

In reading to yourself do not mutter, your 
lips should not move, the eyes only should 
wander over the page;— this practice in private, 
as well as in company (for there are times when 
a book may be taken up even in company, with- 
out outraging propriety ; thus in the morning 
when others are reading the paper, you may 
take a book to keep them in countenance) must 
be constantly adopted : the same remark applies 
to every thing, viz: that it should be uniformly 
practised in private, that it may be gracefully 
performed in public ; for 

" All the world's a stage, 

And all the men and women merely players ;" 

are we not then to study our parts, that we may 
act becomingly ? 



XVII. OF DUTY TO PARENTS. 

" Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend 

More hideous, when thou shew'st thee in a child, 
Than the sea monster." — Shakspeare. 



MY BOOK. 11 

If the yearnings of nature — and the command 
of God — produce not affection, — respect,: — and 
duty, in children to their parents, — any thing 
and every thing that could be said upon the 
subject would fall — like the feather in the ex- 
hausted receiver — a dead weight. 



XVIII. OF HABIT. 

Habit in age — is custom in youth : — custom 
is but a frequent recurrence of the same act ; — 
habit, when it becomes a second nature. — How 
important, therefore, that we guard against the 
admission of a frivolous strain of thought and 
reasoning ; — lest, by indulgence in idle and un- 
profitable speculation, we become habituated to 
customs and manners — which a superior intel- 
ligence and more entire innocence would satisfy 
us, are generated in the hot-bed of vice and 
dissoluteness. Man is a " bundle of habits,'" new, 
old, and worn-out — yet still in use; thus in 
every period of life, habit strangely differs : — at 
first, it is not felt ; next, trifles become important; 
and last of all, it governs uncontrolledly. The 
social intercourse, where love never existed, by 
habit hath begot affection ; this affection, the 
child of habit, is the most binding tie; hence 
that so many aged persons, who have been for 
years united in a thousand little superstitious 



12 MY BOOK. 

prejudices through habit, — natural to them, — 
drop into the grave together. 

Again and again impress upon your mind 
the necessity of overcoming all bad habits ; for 
instance, do not wet your finger on your tongue 
to turn the leaf when reading ; — do not continu- 
ally be passing your hand through your hair to 
the disgust of those who unfortunately may be 
placed near you, — and a thousand other little 
disagreeable habits, that, observing in others, 
yourself avoid. — It may be thought that some of 
these remarks are coarse, and that they cannot be 
the emanation of a delicate mind, and, therefore, 
that the writer is incompetent to the task he 
undertakes, but, in reply, it may be said, they 
are generated in a mind that feels intensely ; — 
the author, " like a skilful surgeon, cuts beyond 
the wound, to make the cure complete." 



XIX. OF THE BALL EOOM( 6 ). 

Should any misunderstanding arise between 
parties, refer the matter at once to the Master of 
the ceremonies: like the second in a duel, his 
dicta is law, by virtue of his pre-admitted au- 
thority ; which authority you tacitly sanction, 
by your presence on the occasion. 

The rule that obliges ladies not to reject one 
partner for the dance in favour of another, — 



MY BOOK. 13 

when the formula of introduction lias been properly 
observed, and it is ascertained that at that time 
she has no previous engagement, is obviously 
founded in reason and good sense; — for the 
women, dear capricious souls ! — with their droll 
prejudices and predilections, what endless broils, 
in all innocence, might they not induce; — how 
easily might they be the unintentional means of 
our hearts being pierced by other weapons than 
Cupid's. 



XX. THE QUADRILLE. 

The gentleman should be careful in the Pas- 
torale and Trenise to conduct his partner to the 
opposite couple in a graceful manner, not per- 
mitting her to take her place unattended ; nor 
should the cavalier in the pas seul twist round 
in that or at any other time in the dance ; such 
movement, which is pretty on the part of the 
lady, is far from graceful in the male; but the 
study of " My Book," from which he may gain 
a few hints, and the additional advantage, that 
to his own deportment it will call attention, he 
may turn out in the end something more than 
" marble from the quarry ;" this depends on 
himself — his observing faculties — his power of 
adaptation and retention. 



14 MY BOOK. 



XXI. THE CHUHCH SERVICE. 

The congregation should join in the responses, 
the Minister cannot pray for each individually ; 
— but one thing should be impressed on all — the 
great impropriety of the congregation imme- 
diately resuming their seats after the communion 
service, before the clergymen have left the altar. 
— This will be understood by reflection. 



XXII. OF WOMAN. 

Woman, — dear Woman, — how shall I liken 
thee ? What language can speak my glowing 
admiration ? What pen can narrate thy various 
perfections ? What mortal presume to scan thy 
fair attributes, and weigh thy divinity in the 
scale ? Thou art at once the Eden of our 
happiness, — or as water in the drought, — like the 
vapour in the marsh, thy light leads us on ; 
but unlike the vision, " thou keep'st the word 
of promise ;— " without thee, " sickness cometh 
like an armed man ;"' with thee, " the desert 
bloometh like the rose.''' — In prosperity we 
love and admire, but adversity trieth thee, 
" even as silver is tried,"" and we find thee " a 



MY BOOK. 15 

ministering angel." Equally the adored object 
— whether tending in illness (7) — enlivening in 
the domestic circle— or shining in the blaze of the 
ball. What could make the coward brave — 
what the miser generous — what the tyrant mer- 
ciful ? — In happiness, in adversity, beloved wo- 
man. Such is she in her purity and innocence ; 
and such may she ever be. It is well said, that 

" Angels are painted fair, to look like them," 

for divinity seems the emblem of both; the 
ethereal essence seems equally shed upon each ; 
they teach us piety by their devotion ; resigna- 
tion, by their long suffering ; and by their reli- 
gion, love. 

But in this burst of enthusiasm for the sex, it 
is my province as a moralist, my duty — (though 
no pleasing duty), to endeavour to uproot the 
baneful weeds, which too frequently take root 
and flourish in the rich and promising garden of 
all our hopes and expectations. We have ac- 
knowledged the omnipotence of woman — we will 
now point out a few foibles, follies, and vices to 
be avoided by them. In this we shall be for- 
given, as we find nothing perfect in nature ; we 
even see spots in the sun, 

" But would not therefore wish his light undone." 

The nature of woman is prone to all excel- 



16 



MY BOOK. 



lence — amiability is their first impression ; and 
if they would only exercise the more kindly 
propensities, how much more glorious would be 
their reign. The feelings of the heart, — the dis- 
position of the mind, are stamped on the counte- 
nance. Who does not observe, " what a sweet 
smile " — "what a good creature," — or "what 
a vixen ;"" — all which, and more, much more, 
is told by the expression of the face ( 8 ) ; an ex- 
pression which in youth is all innocence — in 
after-age partakes of the ruling passion : — that 
index of the soul, the human face divine, as 
plainly indicates this, as the smiling landscape 
lighted by the sun ; how great, therefore, should 
be the effort to throw away the grosser part, and 
subdue, the passions, and only allow the more 
kindly lineaments of the heart to set their signet 
on the brow. The domineering spirit evinced 
by many women over their weak husbands, — their 
poor servants, — and their tender offspring, is la- 
mentable in effect, — and surprising to contem- 
plate. — Our only wonder is, that such women were 
ever married ; but the fact is, they were married 
during the innocency of youth, before the pas- 
sions had gained the ascendant — before the mark 
was stamped upon them. I attribute, in a great 
measure, this domineering spirit in the female, — 
which is rarely found in men, — to the simple 



MY BOOK. IT 

fact, — that young ladies are seldom subject to 
rule and governance ; most young men are, more 
or less, placed under authority, which begets a 
kindly feeling for those 

" Who are born with fortune's yoke about their neck ;" 

which authority the ladies never having expe- 
rienced, feel not that it is cruel to usurp as they 
do, — stamping thereby the characteron thevisage. 
But when we observe a benevolent expression of 
countenance in a neatly-attired elderly lady, do 
we not consider it the beauty of age ? — and how / 
can this glorious end be attained, without all the 
kindlier feelings of our nature predominating ? 

To obviate this baneful and domineering 
spirit, so at variance with our better nature, a 
well grounded systematic plan of religious, 
moral, and general instruction should be adopted 
in youth, varied by continual exercise and re- 
laxation, and the study of whatever accom- 
plishment the pupil evinces talent in, — must 
be especially cultivated. The system of the 
fashionable schools, — where the tender female 
child is constantly employed in the acquirement 
of every superficial adornment, requires effec- 
tual alteration. Is it not monstrous, that the 
buoyancy of youth should be restrained, and 
health and spirits endangered, by the young 



18 MY BOOK. 

pupil not being permitted a proper quantum of 
exercise, but, on the contrary, being too often 
confined in one stooping posture ? 

Women have not the same advantage with 
the men, in that after — but severe — school, the 
world ; and , if some superior understanding, 
some accomplished female friend presume to 
advise the superficial girl, " she will not go 
to school again, she hates teaching, for her 
governess' sake;" and no wonder, poor thing, 
the severe eye ever upon her, every movement 
noticed, and always in the acquirement of one 
artificial trifle or another. The more useful 
parts of knowledge are neglected. Is it to be 
wondered that she must abhor the remembrance 
of the constant restraint from which she is just 
relieved, and that every thing like advice dis- 
gusts and reminds her of the state of thraldom ? 
The authority, example, and model of the 
school-mistress — (ruling by fear rather than 
love} — ever before her tender pupils, suggests 
the possibility of another reason for that thirst of 
domination evinced by them in after-life. 

I have dwelt long on female misrule, from the 
conviction that so much misery is occasioned by 
it ; — the husband is driven from his home, as he 
has not a cheerful fire-side, — or an amiable smile 
to greet him on his return, — but continued grum- 



MY BOOK. 19 

blings and strife. — The children are nursed in fits 
of gloom or passion, — rather than in love and affec- 
tion; — the servants, too, are miserable; — for if 
they know and perform their duty, — yet can they 
never satisfy a temper fretful and capricious. 

Wherefore in our intercourse and conversation 
with women, do we adapt the subject-matter, as 
to inferior capacities, and modify expressions, 
as to intellects a little lower than our own? 
Stamped with the impress of their origin, we 
cannot but consider them reasonable creatures, 
yet invariably the gift of speech, — the vigour of 
eloquence, — degenerate on our part in conversa- 
tion with them, — into the frivolous verbiage of 
fashionable gossip, — or unreluctantly flow into 
the turbid stream of scandal. The tittle-tattle 
of the day may be perfectly innocent, and 
devoured with a relish peculiar to the modern 
town gentleman, whose " sicklied"" appetite 
craves such a dish, but that most women delight 
in such fare, (as men must imagine who, bring it 
upon the table, or the tapis,) I positively and to- 
tally deny: — nor herein do I speak unadvisedly — 
I might instance occasions, various and frequent, 
which I have myself been a witness to, of the 
uneasiness, (if such a word be permitted in 
reference to the educated and well-bred,) dis- 
played by many of the fair sex, when men's 
conversation lacks intelligence and dwindles into 



so 



talk. We all at least know the opinion that 
women entertain of the individual unenlightened 
by literature, however gay his appearance, or 
costly his equipage; the contemptuous pity such 
a creature excites, is his proper reward for mis- 
spent time and lost opportunity ! 

Nor let it be thought that the ladies I refer 
to are members of the blue-stocking "clique,*" — 
or are gifted with information superior to their 
neighbours ;— ^constant experience, on the con- 
trary, assures me that these observations apply 
with justice to a majority of the female part 
of the community. But had I not such con- 
firmation, — surely it is not to be borne that they 
should be treated as puppets, — or at best con- 
sidered as secondary reasoners, — who reckon 
among their bright names an almost countless 
galaxy of beings, pre-eminently distinguished 
by their virtues and ability*. 



XXIII. THE GENTLEMAN. 

" The Englishman » * * exults with reason in the 
superiority of his betters over the betters of most other 
people : in this particular he is fully borne out by the fact. 
Subsequent observation has given me reason to observe, that 
the English gentleman, in appearance, attainments, manliness, 
and perhaps I might add, principles, although this and deport- 

* Somerville, Baillie, Hemans, Bury, &c. 



MY BOOK. 21 

ment arc points on which I should speak with less confidence, 
stands at the head of his class in Christendom." — Cooper's 
Recollections of Europe. 

How continually are we asked by foreigners, 
how frequently do we ask ourselves to de- 
fine the word " gentleman,' 1 to convey to 
the imagination some lively impression by 
which this " beau ideal" — this breathing Utopia 
— may appear to the mind's eye as a portrait, not 
coloured by fancy, — but drawn with the pencil 
of truth. This endeavour, at first sight, seems 
easy enough, but a moment's reflection points 
out some difficulty ; inasmuch as we all, in 
making for the end, pursue different means ; 
each man, we will suppose, believes that his 
manners and deportment are as comme ilfaut as 
his neighbour's ; each is aiming at manliness of 
character, generosity of sentiment, nobility of 
action, and gracefulness of tourmcre, yet in the 
pursuit of these attainments each " follows up 
his game in a different track," — each acts from 
the impulse of his feelings — the guidance of his 
conscience — and each has frequently to retrace 
his steps. For can it be imagined that a man, 
however high his station, numerous his titles, 
boundless his wealth — ay, and excellent his 
learning, unless he has considered the motives 



22 MY BOOK. 

which actuate his transactions, and weighed 
their becomingness in the scale — unless he 
regards human nature in the varying phases she 
presents in the various gradations of society,— 
and has line enough to fathom the foundations on 
which good manners are based, — that such a man 
can pursue an undeviating course — when there 
is no pilot to direct the helm ? 

As the use of books is not acquired from 
books themselves, so we may say that the 
refinement and delicacy which education im- 
parts, — intercourse with society alone can con- 
firm. 

Inherently, — as it were, we entertain certain 
notions, we form certain ideas, of man as he 
should be, — and set up a standard in our 
thoughts, whereby we estimate our neighbour's 
propriety or misbehaviour, according as it 
tallies or disagrees with our inward test and 
criterion. Yet who has been adventurous and 
successful enough to. delineate this being, — to 
draw from the halls of intellect this imper- 
sonation of excellence ? — Modern writers, I 
think, have herein singularly failed, inasmuch as 
they make egotism and affectation the charac- 
teristics of " a gentleman," and gift him with 
vanity and conceit, instead of that honest pride 
which is the Englishman's attribute. Although 



MY BOOK. 23 

neatness of appearance is a card of recommen- 
dation, and, indeed, merits our adoption, yet 
is this needful care to be frittered away in the 
frivolous consideration of waistcoats, rings, 
cravats, and perukes ? But to mount a step 
higher, the flippancy and levity of conduct that 
the novelist seems to recommend, are equally 
at variance with good sense and the feelings 
of the Christian gentleman. 

There is a heartlessness, a depravity, — in the 
ways of the worldling, — which the moral man 
shuns with abhorrence ; — this is rendered pala- 
table to our disordered appetites by the alluring 
form in which it is presented in the novel. 

Let us now briefly consider how a man should 
conduct himself. 



Vir bonus est quis ? 



Qui consulta patrum, qui leges juraque servat. 

But something more is required in these times 
of improvement ; — a refinement of language and 
demeanour is of paramount importance ; — let us 
assiduously cultivate it ; — we shall thereby en- 
sure the kind word of friends, — and stop the 
mouths of our enemies. And let us especially 
guard against hypocrisy, — it is not enough to 
profess noble sentiments, — our actions must ve- 
rify our assertions. Idle thoughts generate 



24 MY BOOK. 

frivolous conduct;— we should be careful to 
keep our thinking faculties clear and active, 
that noble undertakings may be tarnished by 
no impurity. An attention to dress is by no 
means to be scorned ; — I know not which is 
worse, to be careless of one's apparel* — , or to 
bestow on it undue observance. Learned men 
may overlook the former, the ladies will for- 
give the latter offence. Be assiduous in the 
service of the fair sex, for as they are " the 
sweetness of life, 11 attention to their behests 
is time not mis-spent. Promote the ends of 
charity according to your means, and remem- 
ber that a favour is enhanced two-fold, when 
it is conferred promptly. Especially neglect 
not the observances of devotion ; — God be 
praised — it is now as unfashionable to dis- 
regard one^ Christian duties, as their non- 
fulfilment is impious and irreverent. 

Habit is overcome by habit ; let not, then, 
the vicious shelter themselves under the cloak 
of " their evil ways being so confirmed that 
they cannot be shaken off; 11 let such persons 
remember that " the leaf of the mulberry-tree 
in time becomes satin. 11 Thus have I thrown 

* This, of course, bears no reference to cleanliness; for I 
should as readily "suspect Caesar's wife," as imagine that a 
" gentleman" could be uncleanly in his person. 



MY BOOK. 25 

together a few brief remarks, which, by not 
overcharging the memory, may be of aid — 
when their service is needful. 



XXIV. OF MARRIAGE. 

" Hail, wedded love, mysterious law, 
Perpetual fountain of domestic sweets, 

Here love his golden shafts employs, here lights 
His constant lamp, and waves his purple wings, 
Reigns here and revels." 

Milton. 

This most divine and mysterious union of 
interest and person enhances our stock of happi- 
ness — increases our worldly substance — and dis- 
closes the generous impulse of our souls, — 
thereby unfolding them to the dictates of virtue. 
This and much more than this, — a well-as- 
sorted marriage effects ( 9 ) ; these are a few of 
its advantages, and but a tithe of the blessings 
this inestimable compact ensures. It may be 
said to be the iEgis of the State, for it at once 
repels vice and immodesty ; it is twice blessed, — 
it profits individuals at home, by enlarging their 
sphere, of usefulness ; out of doors it promotes 
the well-being of the community. 



MY BOOK. 



XXV. OF THE WILL AND TESTAMENT. 

On this subject you must not only ponder* 
but act, — and that promptly, — not leaving till 
to-morrow, what should be done to-day. The 
future may not be ours, let us then seize the 
present, for we know not what the morrow may 
bring forth. Is not death continually going 
about seeking whom he may devour ? let us then 
be prepared to face the grim tyrant, — to cope with 
him in arms,: — knowing that he eometh not upon 
us unprepared, when this important duty is dis- 
charged, and when we are reconciled to our 
Maker, through faith in His blood. 

How impossible is it to advise about the distri- 
bution of property ; mayhap the testator knows 
no discretion; generosity may be spurned by 
him, — or economy loathed ; — will he then thank 
me for my gratuitous advice ? but let all remem- 
ber, that a trifle bestowed " where assistance is 
valuable,' 1 when the individual is believed to 
merit the kindness, is acceptable in the sight of 
God, and " wins golden opinions from all sorts 
of men 5? let it not be said, at least, 

" Thou mak'st a testament 
As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more 
To that which had too much." 

But to conclude, if any individual gifted with 



MY BOOK. 27 

wealth, after having acted with justice to his 
kindred, finds himself still the possessor of funds, 
let him bequeath the surplus to the establishment 
of Public Baths. This is a great desideratum 
in all large towns ; it is the one thing needful ; 
and the metropolis of the world, with all its vast 
improvements, ranks still very far from the sta- 
tion it can, and will hold, so long as the mechanic 
and the artisan are, in a manner, excluded from 
this healthful and necessary recreation. There are 
various bathing-places in London, where money 
is required at the entrance ; I hope to see the 
day when Baths are open to the public " free, 
gratis, for nothing." 



XXVI. OF DEATH. 

Providence hath directed that active duties 
shall be the business of life, by the neglect of 
which, we " hide our talent in a napkin." But 
when a grievous visitation afflicts us, — and we are 
laid on the bed of sickness, — surrounded by kind 
and sorrowing friends, — when we feel the prostra- 
tion of our enfeebled powers, — and our nearness 
to the tomb, — how then is the machinery of life 
unhinged ! Our hopes and fears of sublunary 
matters, no longer excite and animate us ; — the 
cherished thoughts of yesterday, — the eager 
aspirations, — their very remembrance is fled ! 



28 Ml BOOK. 

And if we are not disturbed by the reflection 
of leaving dear ones in distress*, — if our life 
has been that of a rational being, obedient 
and grateful to his Maker, — living in bonds 
of charity with all mankind, — the death-bed 
will be strewed with roses— the pillow smoothed 
by affection. The awful visitation, will be 
cheered by well-founded hope, (for there is no 
deception on the bed of death,) with no thought 
but your end — you will say, take me, and me 
too, oh my Father ! 

These are the thoughts a man shall remember 
with joy ; these shall animate his heart, even at 
the last. 



XXVII. OF DUELLING. 

Duelling cannot be dispensed with, however 
much we deplore the custom ; but for * this 
wholesome check, this salutary restraint, many 
a good, subject would be unprotected, many a 
man's virtue would not stand him in stead; — 
the bully might lord it over the brave, — the 
hector over the hero, — the observances of so- 

* To obviate this pang'(at 63, Broad-street, London), a life 
assurance company is founded, of a most consolatory nature, 
to secure an income to unmarried females, or bereaved families. 
It is based on sound principles, and comes within the reach of 
any man, with an income however small. 



. MY BOOK. *9 

ciety would be lost* and honour be the shadow 
of a name. I wish not to be misunderstood : 
kind reader, bear with me, I would to my soul 
this custom were discontinued, and rejoice that it 
less prevails ; but as long as human nature is 
the same, so long will the practice obtain. The 
great moralist, Paley, admits the inefficiency of 
the laws in redressing every grievance ; we all 
admit this ; we acknowledge it must ever be so ; 
yet, deadly are the insults, (I speak not of in- 
juries, they " maybe atoned for, and forgiven,"") 
which we may receive, ere chastisement, in the 
law-court, can reach the aggressor; a Welling- 
ton and a Nelson may be branded with obloquy, 
but the quibble of the lawyer shall shield the 
calumniator ! 

For my part, I would forgive, and teach 
men to forgive, " seventy times seven,*" but 
the character, the respectability, the honour, 
and honesty, of the English service, may not 
be lightly aspersed. No dishonourable stain 
must dim the brightness of the weapon that is 
thus placed in our hands to protect our altars 
and our hearths. 

It will be said, that these remarks are in 
favour of this unfortunate practice ; this is not 
the case, they are only intended to show that a 
higher feeling, and more ennobled sentiments, 



SO MY BOOK. 

must inhabit the breast before duelling can be 
discontinued. Sense, reason, religion( 10 ), are 
against it, but what education may be now 
doing for the humble, a greater refinement may 
work for the more exalted ; for, as we see 
amongst the clergy that restraint and decorum, 
which precludes quarrel, may we not hope that 
the time is not far distant, when such will be 
our general conduct. 

" Man in that age — no rule but reason knew, 
And with a native bent — did good pursue ; 
Unaw'd by punishment, and void of fear, 
His words were simple, and his soul sincere ; 
By no forced laws his passions were confined, 
For nature kept his heart, and calm'd his mind ; 
Peace o'er the world, her native sway maintain'd, 
And e'en in deserts — smiling plenty reign' d V* 

DUELLING. 

(From Hobbes's Essays, Vol. I.) 

Philat. 'Tis the custom of gentlemen, and that is suffi- 
cient for my purpose. 

Philot, What if it were the custom to tilt your head 
against a post for a morning's exercise, would you venture the 
beating out your brains rather than be unfashionable ? — 105. 

Philat. Diodorus Siculus tells us (Biblioth, 1. 3), that 
the Ethiopians happened once to have a one-eyed, bandy- 
legged prince ; now such a person would have made but an 
odd figure, if care had not been taken. 

Philot, Pray how did the Court behave upon this oc- 
casion ? 



31 



Philat. Like men of honour, they made a fashion of their 
prince's misfortune, and immediatety shut up one of nature's 
windows, and got a sort of Scotch boot to hind themselves in, 
—112. 

Philat. The custom of duels puts gentlemen upon their 
good behaviour, 'tis a check upon conversation, and makes it 
more inoffensive than it would he otherwise. 

Philot. An admirable remedy, just such as death is against 
all diseases. — 119. 

Philat. It looks oddly for gentlemen to quarrel, or to 
salute like a clown. 

Philot. So then I perceive, if butchers had but the 
manners to go to sharps, gentlemen would be contented with a 
rubber at cuffs. If they must be singular in their disputes, 
let it be for the better I beseech you. If they must run 
counter to the vulgar, I wonder they don't leave off swearing, 
drinking, &c 

Philat. After all, you cannot deny that the present custom 
has prevailed for several ages. 

Philot. So have a great many other ill things besides ; 
there is scarcely any extravagance so singular as to want a 
precedent. But custom without reason is no better than 
ancient error. Now the practice of subjects righting them- 
selves by the sword was introduced by the Danes, Lombards, 
and Normans, a people who possibly at that time of day had not 
brains to decide the matter any other way. If we are bbund 
to implicit submission — if we are to follow antiquity with- 
out any exception of judgment — why don't we feed on mast, 
and lodge in caves, and go almost naked 2 And to come near 
our northern ancestors, why don't we vindicate ourselves by 
trial ordeal, bathe our innocence in scalding water, and hop 
over heated ploughshares blindfold. — p. 124. 



But read the essays. 



MY BOOK. 



XXVIII. OF THE VOICE. 

" Open the rusty door of your mouths, and 
let the words walk out." Half the men mumble 
and the women lisp, never having opened their 
mouths through the whole of their career. Why 
should the voice, that beautiful organ, so suscep- 
tible of improvement, be so shamefully neglected ', 
to talk aloud in an omnibus, above the noise of 
the vehicle, would be excellent practice, as the 
natural emphasis always fall correctly. Even 
young ladies sing with their mouths shut, 
though, to the honour of the music master, they 
are continually requested to open their mouths, 
but seldom with success ; so that as many will 
not open their mouths, and many cannot shut 
them, they are kept ajar, with an idiotic expres- 
sion; it cannot be to show a beautiful set of 
teeth, " with pearls more precious than inhabit 
them, 1 ' for that which is shown unpretendingly, 
is always most captivating. But for the poor 
male youth of the present day, not even a bad 
excuse can be found for their total neglect of the 
improvement of this divine organ. It cannot 
be, they fear to open their mouths on account of 
the unfurnished state of their heads ; or, that 
their teeth are black, their breath smell, or their 



MY BOOK. 33 

lips are compressed by smoking ; but we find it 
every where, for as the boy is father to the man, 
it doth obtain and progress. 



XXIX. ON THE EFFECT OF MUSIC. 

" Descende coelo, et die age tibia 
Regina longum Calliope melos; 
Seu voce nunc mavis acuta, 

Seu fidibus citharave Phcebi." — Horace. 

" Oh, music ! miraculous art, that makes the 
poet's skill a jest, revealing to the soul inex- 
pressible feelings by the aid of inexplicable 
sounds. A blast of thy trumpet, and millions 
rush forward to die ; a peal of thy organ, and 
uncounted nations sink down to pray." Such 
is the mystic power — the all-surpassing influence 
— that " breathing instruments inspire :" and 
thus they " wake into voice each silent string''' 
of fancy and imagination. Who when oppressed 
by care or sorrow, a sufferer from " the slings 
and arrows of outrageous fortune, 1 '' has not 
experienced the soul-soothing calm — the pleasant 
peace — which " music, heavenly maid,"" instils ? 
Though — 

" In the perfumed chambers of the great, 
Under rich canopies of costly state," 

c 5 



34 MY BOOK. 

yet is the enchantment incomplete, were we 
not — 

" Lulled with sounds of sweetest melody." 

When " pain or sickness wrings the brow, 
is it not— 

" By music,, minds an equal temper know, 
Nor swell too high, nor sink too low. 
If in the breast tumultuous joys arise, 
Music her soft assuasive voice applies ; 

Or, when the soul is press'd with cares, 

Exalts her in enlivening airs ; 
Warriors she fires with animated sounds — 
Pours balm into the bleeding lover's wounds ; 

Melancholy lifts her head ; 

Morpheus rouses from his bed ; 

Sloth unfolds her arms and wakes ; 

Listening Envy drops her snakes : 
Intestine war no more our passions wage, 
And giddy factions hear away their rage. 

But when our country's cause provokes to arms, 
How martial music every bosom warms J 
So when the first bold vessel dared the seas, 
High on the stern the Thracian raised his strain, 

While Argo saw her kindred trees 

Descend from Pelion to the main ; 

Transported demi-gods stood round, 

And men grew heroes at the sound, 
Inflamed with glorious charms, 
Each chief his seven-fold shield display'd, 
And half unsheathed the shining blade ; 
And seas, and rocks, and skies rebound, 
To arms, to arms, to arms !" 



Who does not agree, that — 

" Music the fiercest grief can charm, 
And Fate's severest rage disarm ; 
Music can soften pain to ease, 
And make despair and madness please; 

Our joys below it can improve, 

And antedate the bliss above." 

Not alone can " the sweet power of music"" 
draw " trees, stones, and floods, 1 ' but we are 
told there is 

" Naught so stockish, hard, and full of rage, 
But music for time doth change his nature. 
The man that hath no music in himself, 
Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, 
Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils. 
The motions of his spirit are dull as night, 
And his affections dark as Erebus ; 
Let no such man be trusted." 

Shakspeare — in another place — makes music 
" the food of love :" 

" That strain again, — it had a dying fall ; 
Oh, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south, 
That breathes upon a bank of violets, 
Stealing, and giving odour." 

How forcibly was Horace impressed by the 
divine afflatus or inspiration of harmony, how 
absolute did he consider its control over the 
soul, when he says : 



36 MY BOOK. 

" Quondam cithara tacentem 

Suscitat Musam, neque semper arcufn 
Tendit Apollo." 

Does not Milton sing in his enchanting 
L 1 Allegro: 

" Lap me in soft Lydian airs, 
Married to immortal verse ; 
Such as the meeting soul may pierce, 
In notes, with many a winding bout 
Of linked sweetness long drawn out, 
With wanton heed and giddy cunning ; 
The melting voice through mazes running, 
Untwisting all the charms that tie 
The hidden soul of harmony ; 
That Orpheus' self may heave his head 
From golden slumber, on a bed 
Of heap'd Elysian flowers, and hear 
Such strains as would have won the ear 
Of Pluto, to have quite set free 
His half-regain'd Eurydice." 

Who shall describe the talismanic power that 
music possesses o'er the passions of men ? Like 
love, whose sweet confederate it so often proves, 
its effects are as inscrutable as they are delightful 
yet agonising. Who can define the thrilling en- 
thusiasm — the soul-stirring animus — that actuate 
our breasts and fire our imaginations, when listen- 
ing to the ecstatic strains of a Grisi or a Pasta, 
a Wood or a ShirrefF, a Rubini or a Braham ? 

Then may we say, that— 



MY BOOK. 37 

Bright-eyed Fancy hov'ring o'er, 
Scatters from her pictur'd urn 
Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn. 

Then, at least, the spirit " rapt inspired" by 
dulcet sounds — 

makes a swan-like end, 



Fading in Music." 



XXX. OF ELOCUTION. 

The Bar, the Pulpit, and the Stage, are 
all equally depressed. At the bar eloquence 
is almost a dead letter ; barristers must relate 
" matter of fact," or they cannot be good law- 
yers ; this is excellent, to " give standing 11 to 
a dull clod, who otherwise would never have 
been " placed, 11 and approbation to language, 
that otherwise would never have been tolerated ; 
their pronunciation being in keeping with " my 
hid." Is it not suprising that the judges of the 
land, held in such deserved estimation and 
respect by the public, should allow such a flip- 
pant and disrespectful style in the counsel who 
address them ? " They have all a mouthful, 
but none abundance 11 of eloquence, learning, or 
law ; thus the bar has ceased to be a school for 
diction. 

Although we have many in the pulpit who 
discourse most eloquently, whose zeal and 



38 MY BOOK. 

sincerity bring conviction to the mind and joy 
to the heart of the hearer, yet is their manner 
often unpleasing, and their enunciation far from 
correct. A little care would remedy this, and 
God's divine language would come clad in a 
better garb. 

The Church Service, — so beautiful in itself, — 
demands an appropriate pronunciation. The 
dignitaries of the Papal Church ordain not. 
deformed persons ; they think that the altar of 
heaven should be served only by those who 
possess nature's fair proportions; our bishops, 
in like manner, should not ordain those, who 
deform the language of Scripture. 

The Stage is at a yet lower ebb, it is la- 
mentably, disgracefully, deficient ; there was a 
time, when the picture was so complete, 

" It rubb'd a wrinkle from the brow of care." 

In the words of Campbell, in reference to John 
Kemble : — 

" But by the mighty actor wrought, 
Illusion's wedded triumphs come ; 
Verse ceases to be airy thought, 
And sculpture to be dumb. 

At once ennobled and correct, 

His mind surveyed the tragic page ; 

And what the actor could effect, 
The scholar could presage." 



MY BOOK. 39 

We yet have Macready, and two or three 
others in their respective walks ; none else can 
mount the throne. 

Such is the gross ignorance and carelessness 
of the stage, at present, that the same word in 
the same piece, is differently pronounced, with 
continued inaccuracy in the delivery of the 
text. The manager takes a greater interest in 
the getting up of a fine pageant than in the 
production of a good play. 

But pageants and operas are now " the order 
of the course ;" the legitimate drama is, at 
present, set aside, though Knowles writes with 
a vigour Shakspearian ; let me hope, phoenix- 
like, it will rise from its ashes! 



XXXI. OF THE MAGISTRACY. 

Neither a clergyman, nor a lawyer, should 
be a magistrate; for when the priest mixes 
himself up in temporal matters, he ceases to 
be regarded in his sacred character: and the 
lawyer, adhering to the letter rather than the 
spirit of the law, does infinite mischief amongst 
his poor neighbours. 

In cities and villages, with respect to magis- 
trates, the case should be different;— in cities, 






40 MY BOOK. 

they should be stipendiary ; — in the country, 
unpaid. A sensible sound-headed man, which 
every village in England can produce, should 
be the magistrate; one equally beloved and 
feared, beloved for his general worth, and de- 
testation of unnecessary persecution ; feared by 
the culpable, for his unsparing decision of cha- 
racter, and unflinching integrity. He might 
also have a lawyer for his clerk, at a liberal 
salary, to assist him in cases of felony ; this 
would be another way of finding employment 
for men in a profession already overstocked; but 
let them be used only on these particular oc- 
casions. 



XXXII. OF CHESS. 

Chess would, indeed, be time mis-spent, if, 
in attaining that excellence which enables the 
player to appreciate the combinations, it did 
not, at the same time, teach him to think. 

We all throw away some portion unheeded 
of unredeemable, invaluable time ; it were well 
if the employment of those leisure hours were 
innocently devoted to this most pleasing and 
instructive pastime, instead of being spent in 
smoking, idleness, and dissipation. Let us, 



41 



indeed, give them, to any innocent or useful 
hobby; only minding not to ride our hobby- 
horse to death. You cannot do better, if you 
are a lover of this noble game, for its moral 
application, than read Dr. Franklin's " Morals of 
Chess," Sir William Jones's beautiful poem on 
the same subject, and one recently written by my 
late respected friend, the Rev. Mr. D'Arblay. 

The great merit of chess is, that it employs 
and physics the mind ; and, unlike every other 
game, it requires not that incentive, money, to 
add one charm to its excellence or interest ; for 
men, devoted to chance, play at games more 
rapid in the result. 

Some say they cannot play chess, because they 
lose their temper; the fact is, they know 
nothing of the game ; if they did, they would 
be aware, that the pieces never move per se, 
that the game is not the result of chance, but 
an effort of the mind ; and if their combinations 
are foiled, it should be a stimulus to renewed 
study, for it was once told a crowned head, when 
he wished to become a mathematician in double 
quick time, there was no royal road to the 
mathematics ! 



42 MY BOOK. 



XXXII?. THE CHURCH. 

The following is among the virulent attacks 
on the church, going the round of the diurnal 
press. It is taken from the Chronicle, Dec. 24, 
1836, and therein copied from the Plymouth 
Journal :— 

" Ecclesiastical Etiquette. — An illustra- 
" tion of the working of our Apostolic Church, 
" recently occurred in this diocese. A young 
" gentleman, the brother of a clergyman at 
" Stonehouse, had duly prepared himself for 
" orders, by studying mathematics at Cam- 
" bridge, or the classics at Oxford, and, having 
" a title to the curacy of Dawlish, went before 
" his Lordship of Exeter for ordination. The 
" Bishop interrogated him on the baptismal 
" service, and in the young man admitting that 
" he could not believe that baptism and re- 
" generation were identical, he was denied an 
" entrance to holy orders, and sent back to 
" pursue some other calling, or perhaps become 
" a dissenter." 

It is true that the clergy have, to a great 
extent, laid themselves open to attack, from the 
large funds, the produce of clerical endowment, 
within their grasp, and the backwardness on 



MY BOOK. 43 

their part to meet the universal cry for church 
reform, so that the public, losing sight of the 
real merits of the case, attack divines, because 
they are at war with the pride, peculation, and 
cupidity, evinced by the dignitaries of the 
church. 

Why should a reform be now in contem- 
plation of the secular properties of the church, 
by a joint commission of laymen and divines ; 
if the prelates, honestly and fearlessly, in a 
synod of the church, set about to reform and 
remove existing abuses (which, in Christian 
charity, should be reformed) ; if they truly 
believe in the divine dispensation, instead of 
letting uncanonical hands approach the sacred 
shrine, thereby shocking the members of the 
church, and giving such secret satisfaction to 
the dissenters. 

Schism has done its worst, the religious com- 
munity is divided into numberless sects, again 
sub-divided ; and the Apostolic Church, in 
the direct line from the Apostles, consecrated 
of the Lord, need only now be unfaithful to 
herself, to occasion her own downfall. 

It is astonishing how far in advance is the 
congregation of the church, to the Prelates of 
the Order ; a congregation by no means Phari- 
saical, but members of the purest and most 



** MY BOOK. 

tolerant religion on earth ; whose Priests have 
not the halo round the head, but still whose 
functions are equally hallowed. Perform your 
duty, and if your clergy will not, or dare not, 
prevent the degradation and prostration of the 
church, by representing what should be their 
duty, you would nerve them with strength and 
inclination to its fulfilment. 

Is it orthodox, that the Bishops should pro- 
mulgate, and the Canons openly demur? And 
this too at a time and season, when universal 
alarm calls for unanimity, at least among the 
priesthood ? But, that religion stands on higher 
and surer ground than weak man's arbitrement, 
we might, in truth, exclaim the Church is in 
danger. Could anything be more unwise, more 
weak, than the protest of certain Canons, com- 
plimenting the present Bishops, but doubting 
whether future Bishops might not arise not 
equally governed by equity and justice ? This 
was a supposition unworthy of the order, and 
evidently alluding to the possibility of their being 
governed by sinister motives ; and this, in Eng- 
land, with the press open, and the eyes of all 
fixed on the exalted of the land, especially on 
the actions of the Prelates ! 

The English nation is not unreasonable — it is 
not unjust, and lacks not proper respect for those 



MY BOOK. 45 

in authority over us; but it demands, and. will 
have sound substantial reform of church abuses, 
and, oh, ye clergy ! progress with the time, that 
ye may thereby control it; stem the torrent, 
and ye are shipwrecked. 

The people of England would never do less 
for the Bishops, than they do for the Judges of 
the land, and are there any beings more respected 
than our Judges ? They have a certain stipend, 
by no means exorbitant, but enough to support 
their dignity, and ensure their integrity, and 
their decisions, (as far as human fallibility ex- 
tends,) are avowedly unimpeachable. 



XXXIV. OF PRIDE. 

The presumption of the human heart is pro- 
verbial. Such is the arrogance, — the haughti- 
ness, — the presumption — of 

Man, proud man, 



Dress'd in a little brief authority 

that he walks forth so completely enveloped in 
self, — so proud in his place, — his riches, — or the 
antiquity of his family, — that none are noticed by 
a passing inclination, save those of his own grade. 
What is the dignity of station and wealth, un- 



46 MY BOOK. 

supported by the acclamations of the crowd ; 
how heartless, therefore, is the pride, that would 
exclude recognition of those more humbly en- 
dowed ! We require not that he should stop, 
walk, or talk with them ; — but it is his duty, not 
to pass any one he may know, — as he would a 
dog, — un noticed . 

An Italian nobleman being asked how it hap- 
pened he was so popular, replied, by wearing 
out two hats extra, in the course of the year. 

The greatest proof on record of the pride, the 
presumption of human kind, is Saint Peter's 
denial of our blessed Lord. 

The christian religion every where teaches 
humility; — and did not the Founder of our Faith 
exemplify it, both by precept and example? 
How then, dare those, who profess Christianity, 
cherish a passion so denounced ? — especially those 
whose duty it is to teach, having entered holy 
orders; — they should be the shepherds of the 
flock, known to, and ministering in the fold. 
But the laity must not arrogate and screen 
themselves under this unfortunate and ruling 
passion, pride in their clergy ; — for the clergy 
have a redeeming quality, — that in any given 
number in society, the clergy are, as they should 
be, avowedly the best. 

An honest pride is not unbecoming ; — a glory 



MY BOOK. 47 

in our own exertions ; — a satisfaction in superior 
endeavours ; — a self-gratulation ; — these are feel- 
ings that render ambition noble, and make success 
honourable ; — far removed are they from those 
grovelling desires, which would elevate a man 
by depressing his fellow, which may lead to re- 
nown ; but in how questionable a shape ! The 
wise man plumes himself not in his wealth, how- 
ever large ; — his dignified birth, or elevated sta- 
tion ; — he vaunts not of these though he despises 
them not; — but he may justly boast of well-earned 
rewards, whether in " the court, camp, grove, 
the vessel, or the mart ;" then may he proudly 
lift his head in his pride, pomp, and circum- 
stance, — not in scorn and derision of those a 
little lower than himself, — but remembering 

" How hard it is to climb 
The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar." 

The recollection of this teaches him humility 
and courtesy. If we seek true wisdom and 
her pleasant paths, we shall be happy, intelli- 
gent, and beloved. The time has arrived, 
when knowledge is the attribute most valued, 
when the nouveau riche and the parvenu will 
each sink to his primitive insignificance, unless 
the novus homo has established his fame, and 
raised a reputation by superior ability and at- 



48 MY BOOK. 

tainments. The yvuQi asxvlov which education 
instils, will humble our minds towards others, 
by showing us the littleness of our own; sub- 
lunary matters will less excite regard, whilst 
we abstract our notice from finite objects to the 
infinite works of the Creator ! 



xxxv. or TIME. 

" The bell strikes one. We take no note of time 
But from its loss. ' To give it then a tongue, 
Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke, 
I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright, 
It is the knell of my departed hours: 
Where are they ? With the years beyond the flood. 
***** 

And can eternity belong to me, 

Poor pensioner on the bounties of an hour?" 

Young. 

How awful is the consideration of the man- 
ner in which we mis-spend this invaluable gift ! 

The boy shuns his task, more heedful of the 
play-ground than the school-room ; frivolous 
dissipation entraps the young man, and bears 
him off captive in its meshes ; scheming man- 
hood succeeds with its dreams of ambition, 
whilst narrative old-age tells " the burden of 
the song. 1 ' Is not this a just picture, a faith- 



MY BOOK. 49 

ful relation ? Can we not subscribe to its 
truth ? " Were my life renewed, my career re- 
" commenced,'' 1 such is the constant cry, "how 
" would I hoard the golden minutes, and prize 
" the fleeting hours ! Dissipation and her 
" syren train should no longer possess my heart. 
" Profligacy, how hast thou ruined me, shall I 
" again seek thy snares ? Madman that I have 
" been, have the wicked no remorse ? are there 
" no flowery fields for my soul to repose in ? 
" no pardon and peace for the contrite in 
" spirit ? Henceforth, religion is my day- 
" spring, and diligence in good works my 
" constant companion." Such are a few of 
the thoughts which occur to most mens minds. 
Let the reasoner, however, remember that, 
though he cannot retrace the steps he has 
trodden, " the gate of paradise is ever open'" 
to lead him in the ways of righteousness, and 
the paths of peace. And may my young friends 
derive a moral from the tale. — The outset of 
life appears to you like a distant prospect sun- 
gilt ; pleasure woos you with a winning smile, 
and proffers endless store ; — all is brightness and 
innocence, for your hearts and thoughts are 
innocent, and to you is given the power of 
enjoyment, with discretion for your guide. 
Recollect, there is a time for all things, and 

D 



50 



employ that time in doing good, either to yourself 
or to the community. Though rational amuse- 
ments are much to be recommended, — be cau- 
tious not to engage in frivolities ; " sperne vo- 
luptates; nocet empta dolore voluptas;" like 
the serpent .concealed in flowers — death lurks 
beneath. 



XXXVI. OF EAKLY RISING, 

Lord Mansfield said, that whenever he in- 
quired into the habits of life of any witnesses 
who had attained to advanced age, he invariably 
found that they had long been, and still were, 
early risers; though in many other respects 
their practices differed, and were sometimes di- 
rectly contrary. This is no speculative argu- 
ment, — but a calm and solemn judgment, satis- 
factory to the mind of a judge, habituated to 
the discovery of fraud. — Early rising, indeed, 
brings us "length of days/ 1 and a thousand 
blessings in its train; for it bestows health, — is 
the direct source of riches and honours, — sharpens 
our intellectual faculties, and thereby contri- 
butes to the acquirement of learning : — whereas, 
on the contrary, the sensual habit of lying i n 
bed till a late hour, is equally destructive of 
health ( u ), ruinous to fortune, and baneful by 



MY BOOK. 51 

example ; — so that your days are thereby dwin- 
dled, your fortune impoverished, and your exam- 
ple pestilential. Let the parent, pastor, or master, 
speak " with the tongue of angels' 1 on the value 
of time, and the advantages of early rising, to 
all ; — no, the eloquence of a Cicero would not 
avail, unless the precedent were before us; 
therefore get up yourself ( 12 ), and it will have 
this additional advantage, it will enable you 
to attend to your correspondence, to walk or 
read, get your breakfast undisturbedly, and 
be at your post in time. 

" He is a good divine that follows his own instruction. I 
can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than be 
one of the twenty to follow my own teaching." 

Shakspeare, 

The difficulty of overcoming this crying 
evil is great, but the mind may dictate to 
the body, how advantageous to both is early 
rising, and this good habit not being so ex- 
cessively hard to be acquired, there may be some 
hope — if you sleep on a mattress. 



XXXVII. THE DINNER. 

Never commence the conversation, (if we 
may call it so,) by courteously pressing your 
guests to partake various dishes, or by apolo- 



52 MY BOOK. 

gizing for a deficiency of supply, or for the 
manner in which the entertainment is served ; 
this betokens an ignorance of the manners of 
society, by making your friends ill at ease. 
Enjoy your own dinner, and let the company 
enjoy theirs; thus general converstation flows with 
the wine-cup, and if it shine not like the nectar, 
it at least " maketh merry.'" If the repast be 
comme il faut, they will remark it, and appre- 
ciate their reception ; but should it be other- 
wise, through culinary improprieties, or other 
desagremens, by your hearty hospitality and 
well-meant endeavours, convince them the fault 
is not your own ; thus the dinner may be for- 
gotten while the host is remembered. 

Should vegetables be before you, do not make 
as much ado about their distribution, as if the 
dish contained turtle or venison. Let vegetables 
be asked for. 

That which is practised everyday demonstrates 
unwillingness or inability, if it be not done well ; 
this may be said of carving. Earn the reputa- 
tion of being a good carver ; it is a weakness to 
pretend superiority to an art in such constant 
requisition, and on which so much enjoyment 
depends. You must not crowd the plate, send 
only a moderate quantity, with fat and gravy ; 
in short, whatever you may be carving, serve 
others as if you were helping yourself; this may 



be done with rapidity if the carver takes plea- 
sure in his province, and endeavours to excel. 
It is cruel and disgusting to send a lump of meat 
to any one ; if at the table of a friend, it is 
offensive ; if at your own, unpardonable ; no 
refined appetite can survive it — 

" Give no more to ev'ry guest, 
Than he's ahle to digest ; 
Give him always of the prime, 
And hut little at a time." 

Swift. 

The person carving must bear in mind that 
a knife is a saw, by which means it will never 
slip, and should it be blunt, or the meat be over- 
done, he will succeed neatly and expertly, while 
others are unequal to the task. For my part, I 
have been accustomed to think I could carve 
any meat, with any knife ; but lately, in France, 
I have found my mistake, for the meat was so 
overdone, and the knives so blunt, that the little 
merit I thought I possessed, completely failed 
me. Such was never the case with any knife I 
ever met with in England. 

Pity that there is not a greater reciprocity in 
the world ! How much would France be bene- 
fited by the introduction of our cutlery and 
woollens ; and we by much of its produce ! 

When the finger glass is placed before you, 



54 MY BOOK. 

you must not drink the contents, or even rinse 
your mouth and spit it back ; — although this 
has been done, by some inconsiderate persons. — 
Never, in short, do that of which, on reflection, 
you would be ashamed ; — for instance, never help 
yourself to salt with your knife, a thing which 
is not unfrequenly done in la telle France 
in the "perfumed chambers of the great." — 
We all have much to unlearn, ere we can learn 
much that we should. — My effort is " to gather 
up the tares — and bind them in bundles to 
destroy them,"' 1 and then to "gather the wheat 
into the barn." 

When rose-water is carried round after din- 
ner, — -dip into it the corner of your napkin 
lightly, touch the tips of your fingers, and 
press the napkin on your lips. — Forbear plung- 
ing into the liquid, as into a bath. 



XXXVIII. GENERAL CONVERSATION. 

Your party to be congenial, and to induce 
general conversation, should not be fewer than the 
Graces, or more than the Muses in number. It 
is well to have but eight or nine chairs in your 
dining room, — rarely exceed that number. Your 
entertainments should be famed as small elegant 



MY BOOK. 55 

repasts, accompanied by the feast of reason and 
the flow of soul. Who then would not be 
anxious for an occasional invitation ? Reverse 
the picture, and who reflects but with disgust of 
the super-abundant board, and the overgrown 
parties, at your Aldermanic feasts : Bah ! 



XXXIX. OF TABLE COOKERY. 

Some science may be displayed in table- 
cookery, and some credit gained by it. To 
make a devil, use the spices with a heavy hand, 
and forget not the anchovy ; but this should be 
seen to be done well; our friend John Bull, 
excelled in this — God bless the social being, 
his handsome, honest, worthy countenance, and 
his twelve children ! But to return. To the 
quarter of lamb, spare not the cayenne and 
lemon, with cold butter. To the wild duck, 
also to produce the proper flavour, you can 
hardly use the red pepper too plentifully, if 
well mixed with lemon and gravy; then pour 
over a little boiling port ; on judgment depends 
the excellence of the relish ; but in truth, what 
does not depend upon judgment and taste, ( 13 ) 
whether in dress, in the state, or at the table ? 



56 MY BOOK. 



XX. WINE. 

Take Sherry ( u ) with your fish; when the 
meat is on table, the Champagne may appear, 
not before ; it is not orthodox. When the cit 
gives a dinner, he calls for Champagne at the 
outset, pledges you with the first course, and 
you are drunk ere the last dish appears. 

Dr. Kitchiner says, how many concurring 
circumstances are requisite to bring a leg of 
mutton properly to table ; — this, in some degree, 
may be said of wine. It is affected by the wea- 
ther, or it may be badly decanted, — perhaps it is 
corked, — or we may be out of health ; — thus, 
the palate being a remarkably delicate organ, 
and fine wine also very delicate and susceptible 
in its nature, — a variety of circumstances are 
requisite to the perfect enjoyment even of the 
best. 

There are dissatisfied ungrateful mortals — who 
sit down to table gloomy, — discontented, — and 
unhappy, — till they are enspirited by the genial 
warmth of association with refined company, and 
the juice of the generous grape ; — insomuch 
that now you would not know them for the same 
beings they were then ; — in fact they are not the 



MY BOOK. 57 

same — they were miserable, they are now happy, 
and life is too short and too chequered to decline 
such cheering, if it be only momentary. My 
friends must ever remember, though, " to be 
merry and wise." 

The man who can daily make a point of sel- 
fishly sitting down alone to his bottle — really 
deserves not the means; — a man should rarely 
take more than half a pint of wine when alone, he 
would thereby save his constitution, and then 
might he say, having acted on this principle, — 

" Yet am I strong and lusty : 
For in my youth I never did apply 
Hot and rebellious liquors to my blood; 
Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo 
The means of weakness and debility ; 
Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, 
Frosty but kindly." 



XLI. OF DRUNKENNESS. 

" Drunk, and speak parrot, and squabble, swagger, swear, 
and discourse fustian with one's own shadow? — O thou in- 
visible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by 
let me call thee devil ' 

" To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and pre 
sently a beast! O strange, that men should put an enemy in 
their mouths(ls), to steal away their brains !" 

" Come, come, good wine is a good familiar creature, if it 
be well used ; exclaim no more against it." — Siiaksff.are. 
D 5 






58 MY BOOK. 

" It is commonly charged upon the army, that the beastly 
vice of drinking to excess hath been lately, from their example, 
restored among us ; but whoever the introducers were, they 
have succeeded to a miracle." — Swift. 



XLII. THE ROUE. 

" A gamester, the greater master he is in his art, the worse 
man he is." — Bacon. 

" The gambler in ruining his family, — the 
fornicator in corrupting the innocent, — the 
adulterer in seducing the chaste, — each — is 
never daunted in furtherance of his crime. As 
it is said that fifty falsehoods must be told to 
conceal one, — so any — the smallest deviation 
from right, (unless remorse come to our aid, and 
repentance immediately follow,) swiftly induces 
other faults, — which, like continual dropping, 
wear through the strength of virtue. And 
with his foot on the precipice — commencing a 
downward course — say who can stem the torrent 
of his guilt, — where shall his fall be stayed ! 

" And, in the lowest deep, a lower deep 
Still threatening to devour me opens wide." 

These considerations occur to me, when in my 
walks through the metropolis I pass the haunts 
of vice, — that, syren-like, would lead us to the 
rock. 



The gambling-house which rears its stately 
front — countenanced, not sanctioned, by the 
laws, like the gate of Pluto, " is open night and 
day." Nor " like a banquet-hall deserted," are 
its gay salons. Its votaries, " fashion's host," 
are courting the goddess " pellucidior vitro," — 
or are merely whiling away the time that ennui 
would otherwise consume ! Incentives to urge 
on the dupe stand alluringly ready. All is 
luxury, magnificence, and — rottenness ! " Their 
inward parts are very wickedness." — These are 
but the flowers that envelop the corpse ! 

Here again is the gin palace — decked in 
glaring and vulgar splendour; — the rendezvous 
of the poor, — the home of the outcast, — the 
lurking place of the villain ! It is fearful to 
reflect how many a deed of darkness may have 
been devised, how much crime may be even now 
plotting, — in these numerous charnel-houses ! 

The dictates of religion, and the experience of 
wisdom, teach us to shun these dangerous shoals, 
— but how shall the rising generation avoid the 
snares that are set on every side to entrap them ? 
Will not the blossom wither — if storms and 
blight assail ? How then can the young flourish 
in their virtue, when, whilst " it is ripening," 
this " nips its root !" The legislature should 
wisely consider this, — for wide and dreadful is 
the ruin, when it begins with the foundation. 



60 MY BOOK. 



XLIII. OF REPUTATION. 

" Good name, in man and woman, dear, my lord, 

Is the immediate jewel of their souls : 

Who steals my purse, steals trash ; 'tis something, nothing 

'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands: 

But he that niches from me my good name, 

Robs me of that which not enriches him, 

And makes me poor indeed." 

Shakspeare. 



XLIV. OF QUARREL. 

Christianity teaches love; — but if our 
nature be not so ennobled, — by care and circum- 
spection quarrels may be avoided. This is by no 
means pusillanimous, — but a wise discretion 
recommended by Shakspeare, so that should 
any dispute arise, you might say with Colman 
the younger " He who doth take offence, before 
'tis meant, is in himself offended ; — Sir, it dwelt 
not in my mind to anger thee. 1 ' 

" O shame to men ! devil with devil damn'd 
Firm concord holds, men only disagree 
Of creatures rational, though under hope 
Of heav'nly grace : and God proclaiming peace, 
Yet live in hatred, enmity, and strife 
Amongst themselves, and levy cru o 1 wars 



MY BOOK. 61 

Wasting the earth each other to destroy ; 
As if (which might induce us to accord) 
Man had not hellish foes enow besides, 
That day and night for his destruction wait." 

Milton. 



Beware 



Of entrance to a quarrel : but being in, 
Bear it that the opposer may beware of thee." 

Shakspeare. 



XLV. ENNUI. 



Begot of fashion, idleness, and ignorance, — 
the bane — the perdition — of many a once 
virtuous mind. 



XLVI. OF MERCY. 

Of this divine attribute our Shakspeare says, 

" No ceremony that to great one 'longs, 

Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword, 
The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe, 
Become them with one half so good a grace 
As mercy does." 

" The quality of mercy is not strained ; 
Ir aroppeth, as the gentle rain from heaven 
Upon the place beneath ; it is twice bless'd : 
It blesscth him that gives, and him that takes : 



5 MY BOOK. 

'Tis mightiest in the mightiest : it becomes 

The throned monarch better than his crown : 

His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, 

The attribute to awe and majesty, 

Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; 

But mercy is above this scepter'd sway, 

It is enthroned in the heart of kings ; 

It is an attribute to God himself; 

And earthly power doth then show likest God's, 

When mercy seasons justice." 

Pope also beautifully says, 

" Teach me to feel another's woe, 

To hide the fault I see, 

That mercy I to others show, 

That mercy show to me." 



XLVII. OF HOPE. 



When, tending on him still 



With hope, that, baffled still, did still keep up." 

Sheridan Knowles. 

" The wretch that doomed with life to part 
Still, still, on hope relies, 
And every pang that rends the heart 
Makes expectation rise. 

Hope, like the glimmering taper's light, 

Illumes and cheers the way, 
And still, as darker grows the night, 

Emits a brighter ray." 

Goldsmith. 






63 



See some strange comfort every state attend, 
And pride bestow'd on all, a common friend ; 
See some fit passion ev'ry age supply, 
Hope travels through, nor quits us when we die. 
Behold the child, by nature's kindly law 
Pleas'd with a rattle, tickled with a straw : 
Some livelier plaything gives the youth delight, 
A little louder, but as empty quite : 
Scarfs, garters, gold, amuse his riper stage, 
And beads and pray'r books are the toys of age : 
Pleas'd with this bauble still, as that before, 
Till tir'd he sleeps, and life's poor play is o'er." 

Pope. 



XLVIII. OF FRIENDSHIP. 

" Real friends are like ghosts and appari- 
tions — what many people talk of, but few ever 
saw.'" " False friends are like the shade of a 
sun-dial, which appears when the sky is serene, 
and which hides itself when it is cloudy." 

" What is friendship but a name, 
A charm that lulls to sleep : 
A shade, that follows wealth and fame, 
But leaves the wretch to weep ?" 



XLIX. OF THE SABBATH. 

We know that " the Sabbath was made for 
man, and not man for the Sabbath ;" Avhat reli- 






64 MY BOOK. 

gionist, then, imbued with the beautiful and 
benign precepts of Christianity, can say — that 
the appropriation of a part of that sacred day, 
to the innocent recreation of a short walk, or 
ride, with one's wife, family, or friend, is impro- 
per ? The change from the city or town— to 
the balm-breathing air — the " happy hills," and 
" pleasing vales," expands our feelings, and we 
look from nature up to nature's God. 

Those who only occasionally view the beauties 
of nature — feel ecstatically their influence ;-^it 
is then that the mind is most attuned to prayer, 
and if the heart can ever be brought to that 
perfect knowledge of the goodness — greatness — 
and mercy of the Deity, — it is when the admira- 
tion and devotion created by his works — produce 
in us a communion with our God. 

Be not therefore Pharisaical, — making that 
Religion, which breathes nothing but love, a 
scape-goat for hypocrisy and deceit. 

It should be remembered by Members of 
Parliament — and others who legislate on the 
subject, that the Sabbath is set apart as a day of 
holy re'st( 15 *) — of calm and rational enjoyment. 
After the turmoil of the week — with what de- 
light and satisfaction does the honest and indus- 
trious labourer look for the recurrence of the 
hallowed day ! How are the best impulses of 



MY BOOK. 65 

our nature improved and strengthened by sweet 
and tender intercourse with father, mother, wife, 
or children — and on that day such relatives meet 
together ! Let not, then, the fervour of enthu- 
siasts defeat the blessed ends for which the insti- 
tution of Sunday was ordained. 



L. OF TEMPER. 

" A cheerful mind is a continual feast." 

In furtherance of that inestimable quality, a 
good temper, I shall take the liberty to quote 
at length from " The Tour of a German Prince. 11 
The translator, it is hoped, will not feel aggrieved, 
from a conviction that the more the work is 
known, the more it will be estimated. I should 
premise that the German Prince is, something 
like the Prince of Denmark, highly metaphysi- 
cal — undetermined — and gloomy in his views of 
religion — but sane on all other subjects. The 
delight with which he speaks and describes rural 
scenery, and the varying beauties of nature — 
has a charm all his own. In speaking of a lady 
he says, 

" Never, with all her vivacity, did I see, even 
for an instant, the least trace of impatience or 
ill-humour about her: never had woman a 



66 



MY BOOK. 



sweeter * temper ;' this word is, like e gentle, 1 
untranslatable. Only the nation which invented 
comfort was capable of conceiving good temper, 
for good temper is to the moral, what comfort is 
to the physical man. It is the most contented, 
the most comfortable state of the soul ; the 
greatest happiness both for those who possess it, 
and for those who live within its influence. Per- 
haps it is found in perfection in woman alone ; 
for it is rather a passive, than an active quality ; 
and yet we must by no means confound it with 
mere apathy, which is either tedious, or exas- 
perates one's anger and contempt ; whereas good 
temper soothes and tranquillises all who approach 
it. It is a truly kind, loving and cheerful prin- 
ciple; mild and balmy as a cloudless May-day. 
With gentleness in his own character, comfort in 
his house, and good temper in his wife, the 
earthly felicity of man is complete. Good temper 
in the highest sense is doubtless one of the rarest 
qualities; — the consequence of absolute harmony, 
or equilibrium of the moral powers; the most 
perfect health of the soul. Great and striking 
particular qualities cannot therefore be combined 
with it ; for whenever one quality is predomi- 
nant, the equilibrium is destroyed. It is possible 
to be most captivating, to inspire passionate love, 
admiration or esteem without good temper ; to be 



MY BOOK. 67 

perfectly and lastingly amiable without it, is 
impossible. The contemplation of harmony in 
all things has a salutary effect on the mind ; 
often unconscious of the cause, the soul is glad- 
dened and refreshed by it, whatever be the sense 
through which it is communicated. A person, 
therefore, who is gifted with good temper, affords 
a continual enjoyment, without ever awakening 
our envy, or exciting any vehement emotion ; we 
gain strength from his tranquillity, courage from 
his cheerfulness, comfort from his resignation ; 
we feel our anger vanish before his loving pa- 
tience, and are finally the better and happier for 
listening to the spiritual music of his harmony. 
How many words, you will say, to describe 
one ! and yet I have very imperfectly expressed 
what good temper* is." 



LI. OF SEDUCTION. 



"On Wednesday, Charlotte Harrison, the 
young girl who was committed in August last, 
to Warwick gaol, to take her trial for the wilful 



* " Affability, mildness, tenderness, and a word which I 
would fain bring back to its original signification of virtue, I 
mean good nature, are of daily use." — Dryden. 






68 MY BOOK, 

murder of her own child, died of a broken heart ; 
the wretched creature, who was only seventeen, 
declared up to the time of her death, that the 
infant was not killed by her.'" — Leamington 
Chronicle, January 1837. 

How deceitful is the human heart ! Man 
walks forth — in his own opinion honest and ho- 
nourable, he would not be guilty of an action-— 
that, in the remotest degree, could be miscon- 
strued ; yet towards the female sex he thinks 
any fraud is admissible that can rob her of her 
honour — without at all detracting from his ho- 
nourable position in society ; he thinks too with 
the poet — that " at lover's perjuries Jove laughs." 
The Legislature by a law — recently enacted — 
decrees the whole burthen of proof on the fe- 
male; — a law to protect the seducer — because 
lordly man may have occasionally been wrongly 
charged — when, from the beginning of the 
world, woman has . been his victim ; — is it 
fitting for an occasional wrong — against a syste- 
matic wrong — thus to enact ? They pretend it 
is to deter them from giving way to the seducer ; 
but is it not a fact, that it has led to the increase 
of crime in suicide and murder ? What time of 
the day does the seducer choose ? — what charac- 
ter does he assume ? — and who is the female 
that is the subject of his wiles? He goes by 






MY BOOK. 69 

night — and in darkness — lies in wait till he can 
meet her — gives any name but his own — makes 
the poor fond young creature believe he is a 
gentleman ; which, at this moment, the villain, 
certainly is not — and the poor unprotected girl 

" Is lured by a villain from her native home, 
And cast abandoned on the world's wide stage, 
And doomed in scanty poverty to roam." 

Upon man lies the guilt ; he follows not the 
well-connected, he rarely pursues those who have 
parents — and brothers — and uncles to protect 
them, — but those who go to their daily employ- 
ment, — who assist by their industry to support 
their parents, and the younger portion of the 
family — these he considers " fair game." How 
do her parents think that no augmentation could 
be added to their grief, — till they find their past 
misery as nothing compared Avith the infliction 
of the heart-rending anguish in the loss of a 
beloved child's virtue. This then is the afflic- 
tion of her family, — which she herself does not 
feel, — intoxicated with the short delirium of 
pleasure, — from which she is awakened by the 
desertion of her seducer, — to all the horrors of 
an outcast ! No longer has she any one to care 
for her, — her delicate nature polluted, — her 






70 MY BOOK. 

virtuous mind destroyed ( 16 ), — after a little — 
drink is her only refuge, — so, that she becomes 
a pest to society : — thus, O man, by one cruel 
act — for momentary gratification — you plunge 
a once loved object in grief unutterable, — her 
family in profound distress, — and outrage the 
community at large. 

Man — man, eschew iniquitous courses, and let 
your boast be, virtue and honour ! for 

" When lovely woman stoops to folly, 
And finds too late that men betray, 
What charm shall soothe her melancholy, 
What art can wash her guilt away ? 

The only art her guilt to cover, 
To hide her shame from every eye, 

To give repentance to her lover 
And wring his bosom — is, to die." 

Goldsmith. 



LII. OF THE DIARY. 

Remarks have elsewhere been made on 
the propriety of continued reading and applica- 
tion in after life, — the school being only pre- 
paratory to that great university— the world : 
many a stupid boy, in that severe ordeal, has 
turned out a sound and brilliant man, to the 



MY BOOK. 71 

astonishment of the superficial who did not 
know the soil in which the good seed was sown. 
Keeping a diary greatly facilitates this im- 
provement,— inasmuch as thereby you have a 
note of all the books you have read, and it 
would, indeed, be to little purpose, if you did 
not comment upon them, by taking extracts of 
that information, which you consider may be of 
use. A diary thus kept grows strangely under 
your hand; — it creates and improves your style; 
— it is a continued source of pleasure, — instruc- 
tion — and reference, — and also a check upon our 
conduct, — if it be faithfully kept— as we should 
not be guilty of any action, — we should be 
ashamed to commit to paper. 



LTII. ON LETTER WRITING. 

London, July 1837. 
My dear Reader, 

A letter should begin and finish 
in this manner, as an arrangement of the exter- 
nal will beget a kindred neatness in the style of 
the composition. — This should not be neglected, 
as a man's character may be ascertained by the 
uniform order he shows in the various transac- 
tions of life, by his epistolary correspondence, 



72 MY BOOK. 

his manners, and his dress ; relying with confi- 
dence upon such a man, — you may depend with 
the Psalmist that he would " set a watch before 
his mouth, to keep the door of his lips :" that 
he would your faults " extenuate, nor set down 
aught in malice." But, above all, write on the 
spur of the moment when you feel the subject, — 
if it be in reply to any letter of importance, — 
but by no means send it till you have taken 
time for reflection; — and never by any chance 
be guilty of so gross a dereliction as to neglect 
to answer a correspondent. — In your travels 
also, and on various occasions that may arise in 
life, — put down the impression at the moment, — 
and when, after a time, you meet with the passage, 
(on accidentally looking through your papers), 
you will be absolutely astonished at the vivid feel- 
ings that were then aroused within you, and 
you will re-peruse it with much the same 
satisfaction that you welcome the return of a 
friend. 

When writing to any one in town, at the top 
of the letter name the street in which you live ; 
when writing into the country, head it with the 
town or city from which you write. You will 
also remember to begin your letter, rather more 
than mid-way down, with a bold margin on th 
first side of the sheet. 



MY BOOK. 73 

The consideration that any of these remarks 
may be serviceable, will more than indemnify, 
my dear Reader, 

Ever your's, respectfully and obligedly, 

The Author. 

P.S. — Should you at any time send a letter 
by the hands of a friend, you must not seal it, 
only turn the left corner. It would be equally 
a breach of trust to read a letter so entrusted, 
as to steal your cash ; a person guilty of the 
one — would do the other, — but that he dreads 
the consequences. 



LIV. ON NOTES. 

When a note is received from Mr. and Mrs. 

the reply should be expressed to both 

parties, with the address upon the envelope to 
the lady only ; the inner paper should not be 
directed. Notes must be written in the third 
person, and the reply as soon as possible after 
the receipt of the favour, neatly sealed. A 
wafer spits in the face of your correspondent. 
Ladies may use embossed, coloured, perfumed 
paper:- the gentlemen, only white, sans per- 
fume, or any foppery in the folding,, but a small 
neat seal. 



74 



MY BOOK. 



LV. ON CARDS. 

Should the parents be both alive, and the 
father and son have the same Christian name, 
the son must have Christian and surname on 
his cards — his wife also, should he be married, 
adopts his Christian name. The parent merely 
uses the surname, — the junior or senior being 
unnecessary, — but should he die, — both the son 
and wife must sink the Christian name on their 
cards, and the widow must adopt the dowager 

Mrs. on her cards. It has a pretty and 

juvenile sound to say Mrs. Henry or Mrs. 
Alfred, but the above hint will say how long it 
may be properly retained. 



LVI. OK COLOURED CARDS. 

A lady may use her fancy in the colour and 
character of the impress on her card, — but a 
gentleman must only have a plain engraved 
card with his name and address ; a petit mattre 
has them coloured. Nothing should be so 
much shunned by man as an approach to effemi- 
nacy ; — he must avoid coloured cards, — 
coloured note paper, — diamond or other studs 
or pins in the shirt, &c. ; — one plain ring on 



75 



the little finger of the left hand, — with a small 
gold chain pendant from the watch, — are the 
only ornaments in jewellery that a gentleman 
can sanction. — Most rarely do you see a man of 
mind, and respectability, encased in jewellery ; 
such is the adornment of the parvenu, — the 
gambling-house keeper, — and the flashy pick- 
pocket. 



LVII. PHRASEOLOGY. 

" Proper words in their proper places make the true defini- 
tion of style." — Swift. 

What can be more excellent than the faculty 
of speech, — wherewith man alone is endowed 
in contradistinction to the brute; — as by a 
powerful organ, — commensurate to the great- 
ness of his soul, — he gives w a local habitation 
and a name' to the thoughts of his immortal 
mind. That mind, stored and improved by 
nature and art, — would find with difficulty 
words to express or make known its impulses 
and acquirements, but for the study of phrase- 
ology. I beg to refer you to the life of 
Dr. Franklin, written by himself, — for an easy 
and good method — on the formation and im- 
provement of your style : but more particularly 
to " The Art of Logic, 1 " 1 by that great and good 
man Dr. Watts. 



76 MY BOOK. 

LVIII. OF THE MEMORY. 

" The memory is perpetually looking back, when we haw 
nothing present to entertain us : it is like those repositories in 
animals that are filled with stores of food, on which they may 
ruminate, when their present pasture fails." — Addison. 

However desultory your reading, read so as 
to understand, and thereby store the memory. 
The " furniture 1 ' thus acquired will not always 
be as " lumber,"" — it will readily fetch its price 
— and that, at no distant period. Without 
making occasions you will find the benefit — in 
the power it bestows in conversation, — for justly 
are we compared to pumps, which become dry 
—if not replenished. 

Memory, like every thing else, becomes rusty 
unless used ; —it is a faculty which may be 
improved to an almost unlimited extent, — and it 
is one — which, like the piano, unless " practised 
upon 11 — becomes out of tune. How many 
exclaim they are too old to learn; — that the 
machinery of memory is impaired. We are, on 
the contrary, never too old to learn. Dr. 
Johnson was properly indignant when he heard 
such remarks, — the dicta of weak, idle persons, 
— who neglecting all intellectual effort, mistake 
their disinclination for inability ; — an absurdity 
proved from the fact, that Cicero acquired a 
thorough knowledge of Greek, when he was 
past the meridian of life. 



MY BOOK. 77 



LIX. CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 

Such is the short-sightedness of the world — 
that the parent consults his own views and 
opportunities to forward the interest of his child 
in any profession he may destine him to follow ; 
without reference to the bias of his child's 
genius, though on that depends his success 
through life. This must account for the few 
who rise above mediocrity, — whereas by a youth 
of study — excellence would otherwise be so easy* 
of attainment, — but when at length they are o* 
age to judge for themselves their destiny is cast; 
they then plod on discontented and weary, — 
not knowing what else to do. 



LX. ADVICE. 



When you are anxious for the advice or 
assistance of a competent friend, — be careful to 
" bide your time" — to judge your opportunity. 
Never open the subject when he is engaged — as 
he cannot give you his mind — while it is other- 
wise employed ; — he therefore declines inter- 
ference in your affairs; — and this arises from your 
not having awaited his leisure ; for he cannot 
attend to another's reasoning — when his own 



78 MY BOOK. 

business is pressing. Thus is an opportunity 
lost. — You cannot delicately renew the subject, — 
and, if you do, — he comes to it with a prejudiced 
mind. 



LXI. CONDUCT TO DEPENDANTS AND OTHERS. 

" This subjection, due from all men to all men, is something 
more than the compliment of course when our betters tell us 
they are our humble servants, but understand us to be their 
slaves." — Swift. 

" A great person gets more by obliging his inferior than by 
disdaining him." 

Such is the insolence of hauteur that it tends 
to make the -victim of the vice unhappy ; — 
nothing on earth delights him so much as adula- 
tion ; — yet, in his egotistic vanity, he spurns the 
very food which nourishes it — by neglecting any 
conciliatory attentions to his inferiors; — he, there- 
fore, " amid the crowd — the hum — the shock of 
men," walks forth a solitaire, — for when known 
he is contemned. For our individual, — as well 
as general, — happiness- — how much we stand in 
need of one another ; — what, in short, is the 
\ r alue of wealth and honours, if the possessor be 
unappreciated by the estimation of the world ? 
As Colman says — 

" That sitting under laurel quite alone — 
Is much more dignified — than entertaining." 



MY BOOK. 79 

Society is a lengthened chain, and each link 
thereof depends upon another. 

Servants should be treated as humble friends, 
— otherwise — how can we expect when we are 
absent, our houses to be in safety, — our furni- 
ture cared for, — and our wishes consulted by 
undeviating attention and assiduity, — if we 
carry ourselves at that immeasurable distance, — 
which neither feels for the health nor comfort of 
our dependants ? 

Mutual obligation should be the binding-tie, 
—-the employer must be wisely kind, — asking, 
instead of ordering, — the domestics will then 
perform their duty with pleasure, — and make 
such a master's interest their own. 

That gentleman, the late George IV. — the 
most aristocratic of men, never, for any time, 
marked the absence of the lowest of his house- 
hold, without inquiring into the circumstance, — 
occasionally asking after their health, and if any 
were ill, ordering every thing to be done — the 
case required. I need not dilate on the devoted 
service such conduct called forth, — nor observe 
how cheaply it was purchased, — a kind word — a 
kind inquiry — no more — yet ample enough to 
beget unremitting attention. " Go thou and do 
likewise. 1 ' 

The same lesson is inculcated by Captain Basil 



80 MY BOOK. 

Hall in the conduct of two naval Captains, — the 
one sought to punish the offender — the other to 
commend the deserving ; — each brought about 
the same good result — but the cause — producing 
the effect — though equally efficacious — was not 
so availing to the happiness of each crew, — inas- 
much as fear — rather than love, actuated the 
former in the discharge of their duty. 

Be not familiar with your domestics — once 
lose their respect — you cannot regain it ; — but 
repose confidence in them — and reward acts of 
fidelity ; — remark not trivial occurrences — but 
promptly and severely reprove any prominent 
error. 

It is said that " servants are the greatest 
plagues on earth, ,, yet how frequently is a fretful 
and impatient temper, the occasion of misrule ! 
Tell them their duty dispassionately and kindly — 
and nine times in ten they will try to give satis- 
faction ; — and to endeavour is to succeed. In 
the household economy one thing is imperative — 
that no servant, on any account whatever, leave 
any thing, even for a moment — on the stairs or 
passages. It is to be feared that many a dread- 
ful accident has been occasioned by such careless- 
ness. School them also to answer promptly the 
bell or the door; but promptitude, on every 
occasion, is a great virtue in a servant. The 



MY BOOK. 81 

proverb says — that " good employers make good 
servants," — and when you hear of those who are 
continually changing their dependants — assure 
yourself — the fault is theirs — as the servants 
cannot always be to blame. Though we all 
agree " they are the greatest plagues on earth, ,, — 
yet we should be in so awkward a dilemma with- 
out their assistance — that it is almost worth while 
to try by kindness on our part — to produce in 
them — duty— respect — and fidelity. 



LXII. NOT AT HOME. 

" How's this, my son ! Why this intrusion ? 
Were not my orders, I should be private?" 

Addison. 

Those who mix much in society find a diffi- 
culty in obtaining a moment to themselves, when 
at home, — for if they desire the servant to deny 
them — they tell a conventional falsehood ; — and if 
they leave word they are engaged — and cannot 
be seen, some would go away offended,— while 
others, less delicate or more intimate, — would tell 
the servant — " say I am here — I am sure I should 
be seen."" — " No — I dare not ;" — " You must, 
you must, my business is of great importance — 
I cannot be refused." Thus, in the one case, we 
demoralize our domestics — as they cannot reason 
on the fact, — and blush when they give the 
e5 



82 MY BOOK. 

genial, — " Not at home, Sir," — or be subject to 
continued intrusion, — for to see the party, and by 
your manner induce them to retire, would be the 
subject of real offence. 

Dr. Richardson, in his over-land expedition to 
the Arctic Sea, — on their return, during the most 
horrid privations, — one of the crew, mad from 
intense cold and hunger, shot an officer; — on 
the following day, Dr. Richardson and Hepburn, 
a sailor, saw him preparing his pistols, and had 
no doubt he meant to murder them ; — Hepburn 
said to the commander, the Doctor, " Give the 
order, Sir, and I will shoot him when he comes 
up." Dr. Richardson intimated he would him- 
self do the painful duty — and argued thus : — If 
I allow this brave fellow — (for if the Doctor was 
the heart and head — Hepburn was the hand of 
the expedition,) — to execute this act of dire neces- 
sity—perhaps, in after-life,'for lack of the power 
of reasoning — it might be to him source of heart- 
rending disquietude. 

Dr. Johnson said "that when persons were 
denied — it was understood they were engaged," — 
but servants do not understand these nice dis- 
tinctions ; — if employers argued like Dr. Richard- 
son — they would pause before they would sow 
the seeds of corruption — which could not be 
more effectually done — than by a seeming parti- 
cipation in falsehood. 



To get over this difficulty, — to abstain from 
such untruths, — neither to give offence, — nor for 
our privacy to be infringed upon, — it must be 
generally understood, that when a message is left 
that the occupant is engaged — it must on no ac- 
count be violated. This arrangement, in cases 
of business, would save trouble and loss of 
time, — as the person about to call, aware of the 
possibility of absence or engagement on his 
friend's part, would be prepared with a letter on 
the subject he was anxious to discuss. And if it 
be only a friendly call — he has paid the compli- 
ment — by leaving his card. 



LXIII. OF PARTIES. 

Soirees are more economical than dinner 
parties, — -and give greater satisfaction to the 
younger branches of your friends and acquaint- 
ance; — less wine is drunk at them — more innocent 
mirth reigns, — which will better bear the reflec- 
tion of the morrow. They may be given to pro- 
duce some eclat, — as — in one room — cards, — in 
another — music, — and in a third — dancing,— 
and for the bright enactment of the pageant, 
supper should be announced in a fourth salon, 
at one o'clock precisely ; — the coffee, &c. during 



84 MY BOOtf. 

the evening being carried round at stated in- 
tervals, — that the servants may not be con- 
tinually in the room to the great annoyance of 
the company. 

A good bed-room may be turned, at little 
expense, into a beautiful dancing-room, in the 
manner following, — take an even number of 
stripes of calico — blue and white, highly glazed, 
— let them be put up alternately in breadths, 
fluted from the floor to the ceiling, — covering 
the windows ; the doors may be taken off, and 
scarlet cloth hung up to cover the entrance, 
which the hand easily puts aside, to gain admit- 
tance, — and it has the advantage of deadening 
the sound in the adjoining rooms, as singing and 
dancing — each delightful in its way — do not 
accord ensemble. Or the coloured and white 
calico may be drawn alternately to a radius in 
each compartment of the room with a bracket 
and bouquet of flowers in the centre : and with 
a handsome lamp suspended from the ceiling, 
large enough to light the whole room, and forms 
around the walls, — you have a very handsome 
room — with something like the effect of a tent. 

With forethought and attention every thing 
may be done well ; — but, in party-giving — set 
about the thing in good time, — leave it not to 
the last. Invitations should be sent by hand a 



MY BOOK. 85 

month before the appointed day ; or should it 
take place about Christmas, — or in the season 
when many parties are on the tapis, — give even 
a longer notice, that you may not be disap- 
pointed of your expected friends. It is matter 
of regret — after much trouble and outlay of 
expense, if you have not a company to partake 
your hospitality ; — beware only of magnificent 
display ; — else — some of your friends — who 
have ate and drunk to repletion at your cost, — 
when returning home " impleti veteris Bacchi," 
may allow the entertainment was delightful, — 
the amusements charming and various, — but 
" what do you think — ha, ha — I hope he can 
afford it !" 



LXIV. OF OATHS. 

33. Again, ye have heard that it hath been said of them of 
old time, Thou shalt not forswear thyself, but shall perform 
unto the Lord thine oaths. 

34% But I say unto you, Swear not at all; neither by hea- 
ven — for it is God's throne ; 

35. Nor by the earth — for it is his footstool ; neither by 
Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King. 

36. Neither shalt thou swear by thy head — because thou 
canst not make one hair white or black. 

37. But let your communication be — Yea — yea ; Nay, nay ; 
for whatsoever is more than these, cometh of evil. — St. Mat- 
thew's Gospel, chap. v. 



80 MY BOOK. 

This admonition of our blessed Lord — does 
not apply to judicial oaths, — which it is imagined 
our Saviour on solemn and important occasions 
hath virtually sanctioned by not having con- 
demned, but it was intended to prohibit that 
dreadful pollution, — profane and blasphemous 
swearing. — It is not "that which goeth in — 
but that which cometh out of the mouth — that 
defileth f' — how dare we then adopt so terrible a 
habit, — the child of uncontrolled passion, by 
continually violating the Maker's name, and 
imprecating \engeance on ourselves or others; 
independently of this being an awful wicked- 
ness, worldly wisdom might teach us better, — 
inasmuch as the offensive practice unfits us for 
decent society, — for what is so horrid as swear- 
ing to those unaccustomed to hear such bru- 
tality ? 

" Take not his name, who made thy mouth, in vain : 
It gets thee nothing, and hath no excuse : 
Lust and wine plead a pleasure, avarice a gain ; 

But the cheap-swearer through his open sluice 
Lets his soul run for nought." 

Herbert. 

The judicial oath is unfortunately so con- 
tinually administered in this law-ridden land, — 
that it is robbed of its weight and estimation. 
In the Customs, — in the Excise, — in Chancery 



MY BOOK. 87 

suits, and at common Law, the bare-faced con- 
tempt of this sacred duty calls for an immediate 
remedy; reason and experience alike cry out 
against a system that has fettered every step 
with an oath. 

Appealing to the evidence of the Deity is the 
highest assurance possible to be given by any 
human being — who has a proper sense of his 
dependance on that Deity ; and should never be 
administered but on the most important occa- 
casions, and in the most solemn manner. 
Under such circumstances, it would never be 
violated. Man is not so desperately abandoned 
as to run with his eyes open into inexplicable 
perdition. 



LXV. OF INGRATITUDE. 

" Ingratitude, more strong than traitor's arms, 
Quite vanquished him." 

Shakspeare. 

What could be less than to afford him praise, 
The easiest recompense, and pay him thanks ? 
How due ! yet all his good proved ill in me 
And wrought but malice ; lifted up so high 
I 'sdain'd subjection, and thought one step higher 
Would set me highest, and in a moment quit 
The debt immense of endless gratitude, 
So burthensome ; still paying, still to owe : 



88 MY BOOK. 

Forgetful what from him I still received, 
And understood not that a grateful mind 
By owing owes not, but still pays, at once 
Indebted and discharged ; what burden then ?" 

Milton. 

Ingratitude is a grievous crime in relation 
to society, as it stays generosity — by giving those 
a plea —who do not act on principle ;— it is 
also unpardonable individually to return evil 
for good. Such is its baneful character, that 
the man does not exist who would plead guilty 
to the crime. 

Thankfulness is the least we can return for 
benefits received ; 

" A grateful mind 



By owing owes not, but still pays, at once 
Indebted and discharged; what burthen then?" 

But in the acts we bestow — we must take 
care that the manner does not cancel the obli- 
gation. Dr. Johnson says in his Rambler, 
" The charge against ingratitude is very general. 
Almost every man can tell what favours he has 
conferred upon insensibility, and how much 
happiness he has bestowed without return ; but, 
perhaps, if these patrons and protectors were 
confronted with any whom they boast of having 
befriended, it would often appear that they con- 



MY BOOK. 89 

suited only their own pleasure and vanity, and 
repaid themselves their petty donatives by gra- 
tification of insolence, and indulgence of con- 
tempt 11 

But, although, gratitude, like mercy, should 
be impressed in indelible characters on the 
heart, — yet we are not called by its dictates 
to the commission of sin or the omission of duty — 
to please or benefit a worthless benefactor, — 
who for his own purposes laid us under obli- 
gation — any more than we can excuse ourselves 
from the obligation of gratitude by a hypo- 
critical plea, (if contrary to the fact) that it 
is out of our power — or against our con- 
science^ 7 ). 



LXVI. OF FLATTERY. 

" A little flattery sometimes does well ; ,% like 
small change, — it is useful on occasion, — but 
like prussic accid, it must be administered in 
the smallest doses, with great care and judgment. 
The illustrious Dr. Johnson was wrong when he 
told us to praise a woman for a merit that she 
possesses not, inasmuch as all, more or less, 
excel in something, — or have some tangible 
points — of which you may avail yourself, — but 



90 MY BOOK. 

never — never be dishonest enough to state that 
which does not exist. — By pleasurably mention- 
ing that qualification which a lady thinks she 
possesses — she becomes satisfied with herself, — 
and pleased with you. 



LXVII. OF VIRTUE. 



" If there's a power above us, 



And that there is, all Nature cries aloud 
Thro' all her works, he must delight in virtue, 
And that which he delights in must be happy. 

Addison. 

Virtus, recludens immeritis mori 
Ccelum, negata. tentat iter via, 
Coetusque vulgares et udam 
Spernit humum fugiente penna. 

Hor. Book 3, O. 2. 

Virtue, considered in reference to all the 
relative duties, — and virtue, as understood in 
common parlance, — is, as the whole range of 
duty abstractedly merging in one given quality. 
The man of fashion smiles if virtue — or virtuous 
conduct — be attributed to him, — and the use 
of the word, in the presence of a lady, is con- 
sidered an indelicate allusion; — yet in that 
one word " virtu e* 11 — is included — piety to God, 
— justice to man, and chastity to ourselves, — 



MY BOOK. 91 

together with the assemblance of all the cardinal 
virtues, briefly stated in Prudence, — Fortitude, — 
Temperance, — and Justice. 

The man blushes as much at the imputation 
of its possession, — as the woman does at its loss. 
Known inits proper and most comprehensive sense 
— virtue cannot exist in the breast of those who 
are in the habitual indulgence of any secret or 
cherished sin, — or in the continued neglect of 
any duty ; — active sin, and passive neglect, 
being equally criminal. If you have a doubt 
on your mind as to the propriety of an action, 
it is sin if it be not withstood. — Such is virtue ; 
this divine attribute " hath its content so abso- 
lute,"" that the heart being free from self-ac- 
cusation, it takes the edge from worldly misery, 
— and adds a charm to its passing joys; — and 
as our career draws to a close, the prospect is 
cheered by that quiet monitor — by a well-placed 
hope in another and a better world. 

In the words of Archbishop Tillotson, " 'tis 
pleasant to be virtuous and good, because that 
is to excel many others : 'tis pleasant to grow 
better, because that is to excel ourselves : nay, 
'tis pleasant even to mortify and subdue our 
lusts, because that is victory : 'tis pleasant to 
command our appetites and passions, and to 
keep them in due order, within the bounds of 
reason and religion, because that is empire." 



92 



LXVIII. OF PHYSIOGNOMY. 

" The distinguishing character of the face, and the linea- 
ments of the body, grow more plain and visible with time and 
age: but the peculiar physiognomy of the mind is most dis- 
cernable in children." 

Locke. 

In my " Essay on Woman," I have remarked 
upon the beautiful impress of innocency in 
youth on the face, before the passions have 
stamped their indelible character. I am pleased 
I am borne out in this opinion by so great an 
authority as Locke, — which the above quotation 
proves ; — but in these fanciful theories, — that 
are not the result of absolute science, we must 
repel prejudices which their too free use would 
produce. Yet without being aware, we are 
all physiognomists ; we never see a person for 
the first time, but an opinion passes through 
the mind for or against his appearance, — and 
how continually, when we overcome such im- 
pression, — do we find our error. He, indeed, 
must be a superficial observer, than can see 
nothing in the human countenance but beauty 
to admire; — physiognomy corrects this error, 
and makes us look beneath " the outward rind 1 ' 
— through the visage — into the mind( 18 ). 

" Look here, upon this picture, and on this;" 



MY BOOK. 93 

The glorious smile, — the honest hearty laugh, 
— the impulse of the child of nature, — whose 
innocency — the bland — the clear — the clean ex- 
pression of the heart — the face pourtrays with 
a faithfulness indescribable, — the averted eye, — 
on the contrary, the downcast expression — the 
ferocious appearance, do not the face equally 
express ? — " Let not that man be trusted. vi 
Such is the outline of physiognomy, which, to 
fill up, you may study Lavater in theory, and 
your own observation in practice. Remember- 
ing the most offensive exterior, — softened by 
a good heart, will beam forth at the eyes, and 
throw a charm over the whole countenance. — 
Did not Desdemona see Othello^ visage in his 
mind ? 



LXIX. OF THE TEETH. 

Parents should be careful to let their chil- 
dren's teeth be extracted as they loosen, — in 
order -that the second growth may come beau- 
tiful and lasting. A little attention to the teeth 
is not labour in vain — for if the new teeth are 
large, or come awry, — room must be made by 
taking out those in the way : — nature always 
being right, — give her room enough ; but if a 



94 MY BOOK. 

front tooth decay, the rot must immediately be 
filed out ; — when the double teeth decay, which 
generally takes place in the centre, they must 
be stopped with some soft metal, (cement is in- 
efficacious,) by a skilful and firm hand : metal 
expands under pressure, and effectually excludes 
the air; — and as it is a nice operation, (for 
should the instrument slip — it might prove 
fatal,) go to a respectable dentist — who may 
be depended on, as in these mechanical opera- 
tions the people can judge for themselves. Again, 
never attempt to rub your teeth white, but 
have your teeth cleaned,— and keep them so, 
by always cleaning them with some white spirit 
greatly diluted — then wipe them. — And when 
possible, perform this operation after every 
meal ; but always at night and in the morning ; 
in the morning when fasting, the application of 
prepared chalk will have the effect to neutralize 
accidity — and occasion no wear to the teeth ; — 
you therefore clean your teeth as you do your 
silver, with chalk and spirit ; but be more 
careful of them, for they are more valuable 
than fine gold: — you would not crack a nut 
with your silver fork, that you could precisely 
replace — perhaps improve, — but, simpleton, 
you will crack a nut with your teeth — that 



MY BOOK. 95 

you could not with the perfection of nature 
replace were it broken : so be merciful, no 
bravado to shew their strength — and never by 
any chance bite with your front teeth. 

The handle of the tooth-brush should be 
curved, and the brush neither too hard nor too 
soft, — as a hard brush would destroy the gums, 
— and one too soft, would not remove the 
fragments that remain after eating, — which, 
when left between the teeth, by creating irri- 
tation, occasion decay — therefore you cannot 
rinse the mouth too often with the spirit, — 
using the brush : — but be very careful if you 
wish, and are anxious to keep your teeth — 
that you do not drink the spirit, recommended 
to clean them. 



LXX. OF THE HATE. 

Of this integument of the human body — little 
is known — and less can be said, than on any other 
property of the frame of man. The Doctor thinks 
it below his contemplation — the hairdresser 
finds it above his comprehension ; — the Doc- 
tor is looking inside the head — the perruquier is 
always outside ; so on this subject, the Doctor 



96 MY BOOK. 

obtains no result, — and the superficial barber can 
cut it — curl it — dye it — can even torture it into 
a head-dress, — but there their knowledge ceases — 
they know nothing of its nature. I have ob- 
served that this animal property — is in keeping 
with the vegetable world, — they wither at the 
extremities, — cut the tree, and you stay decay, — 
take off the points of the hair, as they turn 
white — and, you will save your whiskers a good 
colour till an advanced age ; — by hanging your 
looking glass in a square in the centre of a win- 
dow ; — the strong light will plainly show you the 
points as they wither. When the hair of the 
head begins to turn grey — immediately as- 
sume a wig, — it will continue your juvenile 
appearance, — ay, even, when in years ; — it is said, 
that seven out of eleven (in the polite world) wear 
periwigs. 



LXXI. OF THE DRESSING GOWN. 

If, on a visit, you must not appear in your 
dressing gown- — however recherche; — the master 
of the mansion only can be so attired— it would 
be highly irreverent in the visitor. 



97 



HORSEBACK. 



When you ride with a lady, she must be on 
your left hand, — the groom must assist her in 
mounting, — but you may arrange her drapery. 



LXXIII. A TAG. 

By a little practice, with what facility the con- 
clusion of a letter may be elegantly turned ; and 
how important, not only in that, but in every 
thing, to finish with effect, as the last impression 
is almost as important as the first ; and all ac- 
knowledge that the first impression fixes the 
image on the mind. An easy carriage, therefore, — 
a good natured expression, — and a flow of unpre- 
tending language, — (if it were for no other pur- 
pose than to make ourselves beloved,) were a 
desirable study — to effect a good finish. 

A good tag — or an exit with effect — is so much 
estimated in the theatrical world — that it is deli- 
cately designated, " a bit of fat."" 

Extremes unlike parallels — being continually 
produced — at length meet — or very nearly so ; — 
there is not so wide a difference as may at first 

F 



yo MY BOOK. 

appear, between the parvenu evoked by fashion's 
wand, and the drudge, — born in sorrow, and 
reared in destitution. The one pursues his way — 
" beloved and loving many,"" — " youth at the 
prow and pleasure at the helm," — basking in the 
sunshine of prosperity — he feels its genial 
warmth, — and misfortune's blasts, that rage with- 
out, ruffle not the velvet of his couch. The 
other — in tattered garb — is "wedded to cala- 
mity. 1- ' Life's bitter cup seems with him to lack 
" the honey- drop, that makes the draught go 
down."" The Indian at the stake dreams of his 
native hills he never more shall visit, so the poor 
outcast craves the sweet contentment he once 
enjoyed, but not again can feel ! 

Yet " all are men, 



Condemn'd alike to groan, — 

The feeling, for another's pain- 

The unfeeling, for his own." 



How often — alas! too often — is the man of 
education clad in the pauper's garb, — 

" Souls once pregnant with celestial fire, 

Hands that the rod of empire might have sway'd, 
Or wak'd to ecstacy the living lyre," 

are left to droop and wither when dire misfor- 



tune has thus laid them low. Brave hearts that 
have palpitated with the noblest aspirations of 
our nature — when the simoom of adversity hath 
sweep o'er them — no longer beat with generous 
impulse, or glow with divine fervour ; — for the 
spoiler hath been abroad, and the dwelling is 
laid waste. 

Now is there so wide a difference between him 
who is towering in his " pride of place " — and 
his brother in calamity ? all that is required is a 
little sleight of hand — with Fashion for the 
conjuror; 

" hinc apicem rapax 



Fortuna cum stridore acuto 
Sustulit ; hie posuisse gaudet.' 



LXXIV. OF TASTE. 

" Taste — like the silent dial's power, 
That when supernal light i3 given ; 
Can measure Inspiration's hour, 
And tell its height in heaven." 

Campbell. 

Would that the time were at hand — 
when good taste shall predominate, — when pro- 

L.of C. 



100 MY BOOK. 

prietors will throw open to the public their 
princely palaces — their delicious gardens — their 
galleries — and their parks( 19 ) — feeling an honest 
pride in their possession and publicity. The 
public on their part will be capable of enjoying 
the advantage and pleasure, together with the 
improvement to their own taste; nor wish to 
injure the property so viewed. How cruel it 
was on the one part to lock up — how cruel 
on the other to destroy ! Uncharitable in the 
exclusive, — wicked in the destroyer, — thus our 
doom more nearly approximates than the super- 
ficial deem possible ( 20 ), - — when the expense, 
anxiety, and trouble, to support large possessions 
isn considered, — although they in a manner sup- 
port themselves. Still, of those that have — much 
is expected, — hence the desperate state to which 
the fortunes of many are reduced — who possessing 
large entailed estates,^ — and never having earned 
a shilling — know not the value of money, — they 
know not what it is to be provident, — but 
visitors survey these treasures of nature and art — 
strangers to those anxieties to which the owner's 
breast is susceptible. Wherefore then the jealousy 
that induces to injure that which should give us 
unmixed pleasure ? Do we not travel — journey- 
ing into far countries, making the landscape our 



MY BOOK. 101 

own by description ?— and do we like it the less 
because it belongs to another nation, — does it 
not rather add a charm, although, not one par- 
ticle of land be our own ? 

George the Fourth, by the embellishment of 
our parks, — in the landscape-gardening he has 
introduced in the neighbourhood of London, — 
and by the noble streets he has made, — gave a 
spur to that progress in the fine arts — which 
is so truly apparent in every department of 
" Taste." 

The destructive propensity of the British 
public has been occasioned by its exclusion from 
every place — without an admission fee ; so 
that when the door is thrown open, — the rush 
destroys every thing before it ; — certain re- 
straints being removed, at first, they will not 
know how to use the blessing, — but, of a truth, 
— it will amend itself. 

Without assumption, the British character is 
generous and noble — if not refined ; — in France, 
even in their wars, — edifices sacred to the arts 
have been respected, — their gardens, galleries, 
and museums, are visited by their clowns un- 
touched ; each feels a national pride in, and 
derives pleasure and instruction from, the in- 
spection. In many parts of Germany, the most 



102 MY BOOK. 

beautiful gardens — abounding with flowers — 
have not even a fence ; — and all the parks of 
the sovereign-princes of Germany are open to 
the public. We might multiply instances ; but 
as a nation we admit the error — we need not 
stray abroad for examples, when every man's 
heart is his own monitor. It is not the lower 
orders exclusively — who are guilty of "this habit 
of destructiveness ;-^but a wanton feeling in 
the community at large. This feeling may be 
amended by each man looking at home, — and 
the preservation will be complete — in that good 
feeling about to be created by our growing 
collections in all departments of " Taste ;" — in 
which the whole nation will have a mutual 
interest and property. 



LXXV. ON POETRY. 

As there is nothing more congenial and 
agreeable to most men's tastes, — as there is no 
amusement more intellectual and divine in its 
nature, — or more conducive to that happiness 
which passeth understanding, — than the inspira- 
tion which poetry affords, — my readers will con- 



MY BOOK. 103 

siderately bear with me — whilst I devote myself 
to the subject, as compendiously as its sublimity 
admits. 

It is upon the models of antiquity that all 
modern poetry is moulded. With the exception 
of " the native wood-notes wild" of " nature's 
darling," — Shakspeare, — all, in our generation 
who " taste the Pierian spring," unavoidably 
" drink deep" of that ever-flowing fountain 
which those who were " giants in the land" have 
undeniably made their own. 

The celebrated Venus of Praxiteles was formed 
by the selection of the particular beauty of each 
most beautiful woman in Greece, — and the 
assemblage in one focus, — one unrivalled statue, 
— of all these surpassing charms. Homer and 
Virgil, — in the structure of their Epics, — appear 
to have " massed together" all the beauties of 
all poesy that ever has been writ or conceived. 
Our hearts and minds are dignified and im- 
proved by the energy and sound sense of Homer's 
immortal strains, " in wondering mazes lost — 
we find no end" of the copiousness of his inven- 
tion, — of the profundity of his intelligence,— of 
the variety and vigour of his similes and meta- 
phors, — and of that " divinae particula auras," 
— that Promethean heat, — which glows so 



104 MY BOOK. 

vividly along the magic page. In the iEneid. of 
Virgil — we find not this invention, — not the 
invention of a Homer, — " the words that burn" 
are less frequent herein, — but the " thoughts 
that breathe" never intermit, — the " aliquando 
dormif" applies not here ; —for here is the sus- 
tainment of calm, pure, elevated thought, — 
diction fine, clear and impressive, — reasoning 
just, sober, and majestic. 

St. Augustin says, — and let parents mind the 
injunction, — for the authority is venerable, 
" Virgilium pueri legant; ut poeta magnus, om- 
niumque praeclarissimus, atque optimus, teneris 
imbibitus annis, non facile oblivione possit 
aboleri." 

It is for the acquisition of virtuous thoughts 
and ennobling sentiments that the classic authors 
of antiquity must be cultivated assiduously; 
— boundless is the superior wisdom they con- 
tain ; — how glorious, then, is the considera- 
tion — that, while, by their perusal and study, 
we are storing our minds with imagery, — 
improving our style by neatness and appro- 
priateness of expression, and enriching it by 
fertility of ideas, — we are, at the same time, 
laying up for ourselves a stock of that heavenly 
consolation which will aid us in time of need. 



MY BOOK. 105 

That unrivalled statesman, the Earl of Chatham, 
in a letter to his nephew, Thomas Pitt, — after- 
wards Lord Camelford, advises him to read 
Virgil's Mneid from the beginning to the end. 
In a subsequent letter he says, " I rejoice to 
hear that you have begun Homers Iliad ; — and 
made so great a progress in Virgil. — I hope you 
taste and love those authors particularly. — You 
cannot read them too much. They are not only 
the two greatest poets; but they contain the 
finest lessons for your age to imbibe ; — lessons 
of honour, courage, disinterestedness, love of 
truth, command of temper, gentleness of be- 
haviour, humanity ; and — in one word — virtue, 
in its true signification. — Go on, and drink as 
you can of these divine springs. The pleasure 
of the draught is, at least, equal to the pro- 
digious advantage of it to the heart and morals. 
I hope you will drink them, as somebody does in 
Virgil, 

" Ille impiger hausit 

Spumantem pateram." 

In a subsequent letter he says, " I desire that, 
for the present, no books of poetry may be read 
but Horace and Virgil ; of Horace the odes, but 
above all, the Epistles and the Art of Poetry — « 
these parts 

f5 



106 MY BOOK. 

' Nocturna versate manu, versate diurna.' " 

Such were the sentiments of that able, upright, 
and patriotic statesman. Virgil was his monitor, 
and his guide. Virgil was the instructor whom 
he sought, the oracle whom he consulted, and the 
basis on which he built his fame. 

The celebrated Mr. Fox, in a letter to Gilbert 
Wakefield, says, " The grand and spirited style 
of the Iliad, the true nature and simplicity of 
the Odyssey, the poetical language of the Geor- 
gics, far excelling that of all other poets in the 
world, and the pathetic strokes in the JEneid, 
give Homer and Virgil a rank — in my judg- 
ment — clearly above all other competitors." 

Shenstone somewhere says, " I have sometimes 
thought Virgil so remarkably musical, that, 
were his lines read to a musician, wholly ignorant 
of the language, by a person of capacity, giving 
each word its proper accent, he would not fail 
to distinguish in it all the graces of harmony. 
A man of dry sound judgment, attends to the 
truth of a proposition ; a man of ear and sensi- 
bility, to the music of the versification ; a man of 
a well-regulated taste, finds the former more 
deeply imprinted on him, by the judicious 
management of the latter." 



MY BOOK. 107 

An epic poem — an Iliad or an iEneid — comet- 
like — appears but once or so in many hundred 
years ; — if, however, our " Paradise Lost " be 
not an epic, — all will agree — with Addison — that 
it is a divine poem. What more than mortal 
energy pervades the glowing lines, — what stupen- 
dous imagery, — what sublimity of conception, 
and eloquence of diction ! 

Pope says that Homer should be considered 
attentively, in comparison with Virgil, above all 
the ancients, and with Milton above all the mo- 
derns ; and Addison asserts, that Milton has 
carried our language to a greater height than 
any other English poet; and made the sub- 
limity of his style equal to that of his senti- 
ment. 

To the natural talents of Shakspeare, no limits 
can be assigned ; — his name is enshrined in all 
hearts, blessed by all tongues, and registered in 
all lands, — wherein the voice of literature has 
ever been heard — or the hand of education ever 
been extended. Panegyric or vituperation would 
be equally supererogatory — as applied to Shak- 
speare;— we should "gild refined gold" in at- 
tempting to praise him, — by dispraise or censure — 
we might, like Zoilus, — or the monkey in the 
fable, — in striving to show our own erudition, 



108 



MY BOOK. 



but make a display of our folly and ignor- 
ance. 

It is not my intention, — even were it in my 
power, to particularize certain passages— in this 
or that author — distinguished by this or that 
peculiar beauty. Such is not my design ; by 
such proceeding, my octavo would readily swell 
into a folio, — and though my taste might be 
gratified by the selection, — it is a question whe- 
ther that of my readers would be equally satisfied. 
I merely wish it to be impressed on the mind, 
that the study of the best classic authors of 
Greece and Rome must be pursued with dili- 
gence, in order that we may appreciate, — (as they 
should be appreciated,) the unrivalled produc- 
tions of our modern bards. 

We shall conclude with the opinion of Dr. 
Johnson — with respect to the importance of the 
writings of poets in general, and consequently 
those of Virgil in particular, in education : — he 
says — in his life of Milton, " Those authors are 
to be read at schools, that supply most axioms 
of prudence, most principles of moral truth, and 
most materials for conversation ; and these pur- 
poses are best served by poets, orators, and his- 
torians. Let me not be censured for this digres- 
sion, as paradoxical or pedantic ; for if I have 



MY BOOK. 109 

Milton against me, I have Socrates on my 
side." 



LXXVI. PHRENOLOGY. 

" Know then thyself, presume not Cod to scan, 
The proper study of mankind is man." 

The seductions of religious error are of a 
nature so accordant with man's vain-glorious 
spirit, that his pride would, even induce him to 
cope with his Maker, — and (from an external 
observation) — to look beneath the outward rind 
of things. Thus we do not form our opinion 
by men's actions, — but positively by the senses, 
as displayed by certain irregularities on the 
cranium ; — and many of these not being occa- 
sioned by the bone that encloses the head, — all 
no doubt being the result of accident ; — (as one 
man is tall and another short, — one fat and 
another thin,) so, by accident, the protuberances 
commonly called " bumps, 1 ' and the propensities 
may sometimes tally, — which to them is con- 
firmation strong — in favour of their theory or 
science ; but science proceeding upon certain 
data, admits of demonstration, — its ends are 
therefore infallible ;■ — can this be said of crani- 
ology — phrenology — or whatever else it is 



110 MY BOOK. 

called ? — No one can reply in the affirmative. 
It is the most accommodating absurdity that ever 
the woof of mans invention wove into a theory. 

If you adopt its principles, my readers, and 
unfortunately its advocates are numerous — be 
careful how you accost your friend, when 
" there's blood upon that hand, 1 ' — when at least 
his pericranium bears the impress that he is ripe 
for " treason, — stratagems, and spoils ? — the 
writer who now addresses you in primeval in- 
nocence and simplicity, — Gall, Spurzheim, or 
Deville, might convict of atrocities which it is 
certain from the bumps — he but waits an op- 
portunity to commit. 

There is a story told of Lavater, the physi- 
ognomist. — He gave his positive opinion 
that Lord Anson was a man of great abilities, 
from the intellect developed in his face ; 
Horace Walpole says that his Lordship was 
the most stupid man he knew. 

They find out that, — in the murderer, — the 
organ of destructiveness is developed ; but very 
few kill from the love of blood : is it not 

" To gain admission to a rich man's purse, 
Or a whore's bed?" 

Or to escape the hands of justice by doubly 
embruing their hands in guilt ? How then 



MY BOOK. Ill 

presume we to say — that this or that man's 
passions were so organised, that he could not 
controul the thirst of blood imprinted by the 
brain on the skull. And these hints are bor- 
rowed by the phrenzied disciples of Gall from 
comparative anatomy of the inferior animals, — 
evidently exhibiting a wish to level man with 
the brute. That actions are the result of or- 
ganisation, that religion, — both natural and 
revealed — is superstition, — that man is indepen- 
dent of his Maker, — that the will is no longer 
free, — that reason no longer directs us, — but 
the organs as displayed on the skull ; — these are 
theories that reason disowns, — and revelation 
utterly disavows. Banishment from his native 
land was but a just sentence to pass on Dr. 
Gall, it was his due reward — as the disseminator 
of such doctrine, — then why do -we yet hold 
fast the profession of our faith in it ? Let us 
now see with our own eyes, and judge with our 
own understanding — then irreligion shall not 
sway us, though clad in a specious garb. 

The pride of the heart is such, that, in many 
instances, it is to be feared, it delighteth in any 
innovation that gives a sanction to men's im- 
piety ; — it is in vain that phrenologists deny 
the materialism of their system, for, by their 
own showing, the soul can have no existence 



112 MY BOOK. 

distinct from the brain — and its multitudinous 
desires. 

This is, perhaps, the most insidious attack — 
religion ever experienced, its speciousness is so 
innocent and captivating, many entertain the 
theory as a pleasing amusement,— it requires no 
hard reading, no diligent " grinding, 1 '' — a bust 
is placed before them, — whose upper part is 
divided and subdivided like the cheques of a 
draft -board ; — where a worse principle does not 
actuate, — the toy is harmless enough ; — an ac- 
quaintance with the science may readily be 
purchased, for the most ignorant quacks can 
lecture on the subject. Many uphold the 
growing error, — who, good easy men, are not 
aware of its destructive tendency; — little do 
they dream that, by this means, they are de- 
taching man from his Maker, — by this his 
passions become the result of organization, — he 
is a mere material thing : — fit only to " rot as a 
dog — on a dung-hill,' 1 and this 

"When nature cries aloud thro' all her works," 

the existence of a Deity ! " Sunt certi denique 
fines," and beyond these it is as irreverent to 
step, as it is proper and justifiable within the 
length of our tether. But such are the perver- 



MY BOOK. 113 

sion and obliquity of man's mental vision,— rsuch 
the reliance he places in the grasp and vigour 
of his intellect, that he presumes to turn against 
his God, — by the introduction of a system — 
vague, inconclusive, mistaken, alike at variance 
with Christianity and subversive of all religion, 
most mischievous in the principle, and frivolous 
in the detail, insomuch that viewing it in its 
naked deformity, and deprived of its high- 
sounding title, we survey its empty pretensions, 
— its insignificance, — its nothingness! 



LXXVII. OF SUICIDE. 

" Child of despair, and suicide ray name 



b vv. 



In perusing M. Fabrets work (de VHypo- 
chondrie et du Suicide J, you will meet with 
the following anecdote of Napoleon, when first 
consul, being the solution of the question, started 
by Lord Byron and others, " why he did not 
destroy himself — rather than outlive his reverse 
of fortune?"" Two suicides took place in the 
course of a week in a regiment of the line, — 
and to stop the contagion he issued the follow- 
ing general order : — 



114 



" A soldier should be able to subdue his 
" passions ; as the man who suffers mental pain 
" without shrinking, shows as much real courage 
" as he who stands firm under the fire of a 
" battery ; for, to become the prey of melan- 
" choly, or> to commit suicide to escape it, is 
" like flying from the field of battle before the 
" contest is decided."" 

We should, as far as we can — attempt to con- 
trol our thoughts, — but if we wish (as all do) 
to be good and sane, — we must not ponder over 
crime, — or muse on suicide, — for as certain as 
you give uncontrolled admission to bad 
thoughts, they continually work their own 
fulfilment. But, that there is method in mad- 
ness — the apparent sanity of some suicides — 
would induce a belief, — that in cold blood — they 
had murdered themselves — men who would 
have shrunk from the commission of any crime, 
— being guilty without exception of the most 
heinous human nature can perpetrate — self- 
destruction — precluding the possibility of re- 
pentance — or any expiatory act; — they rush 
into dark and awful futurity. ( 21 ) 

" Men should study well to control their thoughts ; 
They must never turn, that way madness lies." 



115 



To run away 



Is but a coward's trick ; to run away 
From this world's ills, that at the very worst 
Will soon blow o'er, thinking to mend ourselves 
By boldly vent'ring on a world unknown. 
And plunging headlong in the dark — 'tis mad ; 
No frenzy half so desperate as this." 



LXXVIII. OF CHAEITY. 



" Only add 



Deeds to thy knowledge answerable: add faith, 
Add virtue, patience, temperance, add love, 
By name to come called charity, the soul 
Of all the rest." 

Milton. 

As Dr. Johnson says, " Evil is not only the 
occasional, but the efficient, cause of charity. 
We are incited to the relief of misery by the 
consciousness that we have the same nature Avith 
the sufferer ; that we are in danger of the same 
distresses ; and may some time implore the same 
assistance." 



LXXIX. REMARKS ON CHILDREN. 

Parents should be careful to instruct their 
nurses, — and take care themselves to carry 
infants on the arm, — as in a cradle, — having the 



116 MY BOOK. 

other arm at liberty ; — but when the child sits 
up — it must be on one hand, supported by the 
other in front, — to strengthen the back ;— an 
infant should never be allowed to sit on the knee 
in a carriage, on account of the motion of the 
vehicle, — or in nursing, thrown too high. To 
carry a child on one arm, squeezing the legs 
against the body, — as when you shoulder a 
musket, — accounts, in some degree, for the 
strange legs we see. Again, when you walk 
with a child — he takes two or three steps to 
your one, — you must restrain your pace to his 
power. One of the greatest surgeons, in name 
and practice, in London, said he had seven 
hundred cases a year of children labouring 
under stiff joints and hip complaints, — generally 
produced by adults taking them out — and walk- 
ing too far and too fast with them. Another 
great impropriety is dressing children in clothes 
fitted to the frame ; — making them appear 
" pretty figures ;" — it is the most certain way 
to destroy a beautiful form. In infancy and 
childhood, leave nature alone — do not cramp 
her. When young ladies walk out for air, they 
must have exercise ; to walk with a book in the 
hand is in bad taste, and of little use; — to creep 
about a square in London with a book for health 
and knoAvledge is too ridiculous;— exercise being 



MY BOOK. 117 

the only thing in such an atmosphere that pro- 
duces a beneficial effect. Boys should not be 
allowed to drive iron hoops through the streets ; 
— the impetus they acquire is beyond the power 
of young hands to control ; — so that the aged 
and infirm, who cannot get out of the way in 
time, are in continual danger, — as the least 
accident in advanced age — by disturbing the 
habit — is often fatally attended ; — this is one of 
those subjects of inferior importance for legisla- 
tive enactment, but such as the magistrates 
should with a firm hand put down, as they would 
prohibit unmuzzled curs — in the dog-days. 

How much does it concern all parents to 
cultivate the morals of their children, and sow 
in their souls the seeds of everlasting life ; that 
whatever be their portion here, their lot may 
hereafter be among the saints in heaven. How 
much does it concern them to educate their dear 
offspring to some honest and commendable em- 
ployment ; that they may be secured against 
the fatal evils of idleness, and the dangerous 
inconveniences of want ! Unnatural are they 
to the last degree, who neglect the welfare of the 
fruit of their own bodies ; who neglect to form 
the manners of their children to virtue and 
industry ; neglect to make them useful in this 
world, and happy in the next ( 22 ). 



118 



MY BOOK. 



LXXX. ON FREEMASONRY. 

In entering upon the consideration of this 
subject, it is my wish and intention to make my 
case good by discarding all bias or prepossession, 
as to the excellence of the cause, which may be 
supposed to glow within me, as an ancient 
brother of the craft. I shall not so much 
assume the advocate's part herein, — for in so good 
a fight little advocacy is required, — nor shall I 
be contented to give only an ew parte statement, 
by throwing all its bearings into the prepon- 
derating scale; — rather let me hear and de- 
liberate upon the evidence adduced, and form a 
calm and tempered judgment, — after minute 
investigation and careful reflection. 

In the first place, then, what is the object — 
the foundation of the institution of Masonry ? 
— Charity in the most ample and comprehensive 
sense ; — Charity in the noblest and grandest 
point of view ; — the charity, — the active bene- 
volence, — which " feeds the hungry, and clothes 
the naked," — is inculcated among Freemasons in 
no unintelligible phrase, and is adopted in their 
practice in the most Christian-like manner. 
Numbers of young persons, — the children of 
Freemasons, — are from year to year reared, 
nurtured, and educated, — in the schools which 



MY BOOK. 119 

arc altogether maintained by means of the 
masonic funds. Nor is this all ; should misfor- 
tune or distress overtake the individual whose 
respectability of character, and uprightness of 
conduct, deserved a better fate, — how is he 
received within the fold of compassion, — how 
are the oil and wine poured upon the wound ! 
We recal with pleasure one instance, especially, 
of the liberality of this noble institution, in the 
case of an excellent and respected person, a 
school-master, — who had fallen into calamity, 
though he had battled hard against it, — and had 
rescued his " good name 11 bright and unsullied. 
Many hundreds of pounds were speedily col- 
lected, — and the sum was tendered him in no 
ostentatious manner, — but with that delicacy of 
purpose— which " never marks the marble with 
its name. 11 We merely refer to this — as it came 
under our immediate notice ; — similar instances 
are of constant occurrence. " But, 11 — the reader 
may exclaim, — " why among Freemasons is this 
generosity confined ; why is it circumscribed to 
the indigent members of the fraternity — or, at 
their decease, to their requiring progeny P 11 

In reply, it may at once be said — that, among 
their own " set, 11 without stepping beyond, occa- 
sion is never wanting in furtherance of bene- 
volence ; — and it is not to be supposed they can 



120 MY BOOK, 

extend that charity to all indiscriminately, — 
which it is but within their power to afford their 
own members, — and the needy offspring of the 
deceased brotherhood. This is but natural ; — 
the richest man selects and sets apart peculiar 
objects for his bounty. 

But public opinion takes objections that the 

meeting is secret, and that oaths are administered, 

— and that the recurrence of masonic festivals 

tends to dissoluteness, and depravity of behaviour. 

Let me first ask such oppositionists — if there 

be a shadow of probability that this institution 

could have withstood the wear and tear of time, 

unless some inexplicable and mystical union 

had linked its members together in so compact 

a confederacy ! Unless some binding tie had 

knit man to man, — some awful and mysterious 

truth, connected with religion and her works, 

had been inculcated and enforced in the mind 

and on the conscience, this, — like all other 

human fabrics, — would have been long since 

swept away in the dust of ages ; but it hath 

resisted " the wreck of matter," for charity has 

based it on " the rock." 

Agreeably to my assertion, then, it partly 
owes its existence and vigour to the formula so 
incomprehensible to the uninitiated. 

In this law-ridden land — oaths, (as I have 



MY BOOK. 121 

before observed), are but too frequently ad- 
ministered, — and are consequently most heed- 
lessly taken. The solemn compact is desecrated 
by levity, — and the obligation is forgotten ere 
the sound of the words has ceased. In Free- 
masonry, — on the contrary, which breathes the 
very breath of religion, — the administration of 
the oath is, I am prepared to say — (in refutation 
of a late statement*,) — of most infrequent oc- 
currence, — and is only used as the seal by which 
an important duty is impressed on the con- 
science. — Were it not so — is it to be supposed 
that so many of the clergy, excellent and ve- 
nerable in their lives, would dignify the meetings 
by continual attendance ? Would such num- 
bers of individuals, — pre-emiment for legal and 
medical skill, take so much interest and concern 
in the institution, — however important its claims 
to favour, could so startling an objection be 
justly raised against it? — Would an illustrious 
Duke, the Mecaenas of literature, " the spring- 
dew," of intelligence, in ever extending his 
august patronage and support, — by presiding 
over the objects and purposes of Freemasonry, — 
not be the first to raise the cry of war against 
such dereliction of good sense and feeling? — 

* Vide Mr. O'Connell's Letter. 



l%% MY BOOK. 

Would a noble Marquess of dignified descent, 
and unblemished family, — of princely posses- 
sions,— of unsullied reputation, and of excellent 
acquirements,— -continually receive in his man- 
sion at Hatfield, and entertain with boundless 
hospitality — deputations of the craft — -if there 
existed foundation for the late animadversion ? 

Such is the admirable structure of the society, 
as we have seen incidentally, that it bears no 
reference to politics ;— what though the " mad- 
ness of party" storm without, and sever the 
closest links,- — brotherly love reigns here 
triumphant, and difference of opinion is merged 
in unanimity. — This is another phase in which 
to view the charity of Freemasons. The kind- 
liest feelings of our nature are engendered by 
this association, moral precepts of the purest 
tendency are urgently enforced ; — insomuch that 
the well-disposed man will derive instruction 
and profit from the doctrine, whilst the wicked 
may be stayed in his career of guilt ! And 
when it is said that habits', of dissipation are 
acquired at these meetings, we altogether re- 
pudiate such assumption. The assemblage for 
masonic purposes is dissolved or suspended 
before any festival takes place, — what then has 
freemasonry to do with dissoluteness of con- 
duct ? — Its arguments and admonitions are 



MY BOOK. 123 

directly against it. If then, the mauvais sujet 
demands a something to father his profligacy, — 
it is a matter of convenience to fling the onus 
of disrepute upon the body — of which he is an 
unworthy member. 

We may safely say, in conclusion, that though 
some errors may be pointed out en detail, — 
when we amass its perfections en gros, though 
we may not say that the flaws enhance the 
beauties of masonry, yet they are not of that 
consequence to induce our uprooting the wheat, 
because a few tares grow between. 



124- 



DERELICTIONS. 



" How ill a taste for wit and sense prevails in the world.'*" 

Swift, 

1. A knocker on. the door of a lone house in 
the country. 



2. When on horseback — to be followed by a 
groom in a fine livery,— or when in your gig or 
cab — with a " tiger"" so adorned by your side. 
George IV., whose taste was never excelled — if 
ever equalled — always, — except on state occa- 
sions, exhibited his retinue in plain liveries— a 
grey frock being the usual dress of his grooms. 



8. To speak on any subject which may be 
unpleasant to your auditor, — (provided that the 
idea glances through your mind — and the inward 
monitor tells you — it may be disagreeable to 
him), is decidedly in bad taste — if it prove not 
your hardness of heart;— repel the thought — 



MY BOOK. 125 

and the subject from conversation instanter — or 
your character as a gentleman and a Christian 
may be rightly impugned. 



4. To elbow people as you walk is rude ; for 
such uncouth beings, perhaps a good thrashing 
would be the best monitor,— only, there might 
be disagreeables, attending the correction — in 
the shape of Legal functionaries. 



5. To be noisy or coarse in your remarks, is 
as bad as to be guilty of practical jokes. 



6. To show an egotism in company, and to 
endeavour to make them feel your superiority, 
whether real or assumed, must be carefully 
shunned — as it denotes littleness of mind, and 
want of manners. 



7. To be too well dressed for the occasion is 
also bad. 



8. Be neither stiff in your bearing — dictato- 
rial in your manner — nor abrupt in your remarks. 



9- When riding with a companion — be not 
two or three horse lengths before or behind. 



126 MY BOOK. 

10. When walking with one friend— and you 
encounter another— although you may stop and 
speak — never introduce the strangers — unless 
each expresses a wish to that effect. 



11. Do not take your friend by the hand and 
introduce him to the whole party ; — on his en- 
trance, his name should be merely audibly an- 
nounced. 



12. The least allusion to indelicacy or double 
entendre is as immoral, as it is ungentlemanly. 

" Immodest words admit of this defence — 
That want of decency is want of sense." 

Roscommon. 



13. Be careful to check vulgarities in children ; 
for instance ; — " Tom, did you get wet ?" — " No, 
—Bob did, but I cut away."" You should also 
affectionately rebuke an unbecoming tone and 
manner in children. . 



14. It is in bad taste to shake hands with 
every acquaintance ; but most offensive and dis- 
respectful to give your left hand ;— the person 
so offended should draw back — rejecting the 
patronizing grasp ; — this might make the upstart 
feel. 



MY BOOK. 127 

15. Simpering — lisping — or an affected tone, 
is most abominable ; but if we condemn it in a 
lady, — in what language of detestation can the 
like conduct be viewed in a man ? We can pity 
the one — but we abhor the other. 

You cannot say a man, but a thing enters the 
room — languidly — throws itself on a couch — 
spreads its legs at full length — throws back its 
body — shuts its eyes — and drawls out its words. 



16. The manner in which Authors disparage 
one another is not in good taste ; — in every other 
profession, calling, or trade, an honour, or benefit 
conferred on one of its members, is appreciated 
by the whole ; but in the fraternity of scribes, 
you find envy — hatred — malice — and all uncha- 
ritableness. In these improved and improving 
times, such things should be amended; — never 
let us endeavour to elevate ourselves by depress- 
ing another — tout au contraire ; — for my part-*- 
I only censure to amend. 



17. Driving — with your whip remaining in 
the rest, and the horse at his utmost speed — is 
like a butcher, who knows no better — and who 
proudly fancies that he is creating admiration at 
the powers of his horse — instead of causing 
universal alarm and disgust^). 



128 MY BOOK. 

18. To pass a glass or any drinking vessel by 
the brim, or to offer a lady a bumper, are things 
equally in bad taste. 



19- To look from the window to ascertain who 
has knocked: — whilst the servant goes to the 
door — must not be done. 



20. When seated in an elevated front row, 
whether in an edifice sacred or profane, put not 
your boa, shawl, or great-coat, or any part of 
your gear, over the rail before you* — thereby 
breaking the line of beauty. 



21. Having invited a party — be ever present 
to receive them, it is bad taste to be absent when 
they arrive. 

22. Cant expressions are disgusting. 



23. To wear a coloured neckerchief — in dress 
we cannot sanction ; white and black being no 

* If it be true, which we do not affirm, that the individual 
who places his feet on the front of a box in the theatre of New 
York is now rebuked by a cry of "Trollope!" from the pit, 
that lady already deserves a civic crown. — Quarterly Review^ 
No. 116. 



MY BOOK. 129 

colours, are admissible in full dress — though the 
black is a modern innovation. 



24. In conversation — the use of any habitual 
expression — denotes carelessness, if not igno- 
rance, and certainly bad taste. 



25. Of loud laughter* — or laughter at your 
own wit, we may say that empty barrels make 
the most noise. 



26. Humming — drumming — or whistling, — 
we must avoid, — as disrespectful to our company. 



27. Never whisper in company — nor make 
confidants of mere acquaintance. 



28. Vulgar abbreviations — such as Gent., — 
for Gentleman ; — or Buss — for Omnibus, &c, — 
must be shunned. 



* " Man is the only animal that laughs. The monkey grins — 
a man laughs. A hearty laugh is good for the soul. I would 
travel from Dan to Beersheba to see the man who laughed, he 
cared not why or wherefore ; — 'but then it must be that laugh, 
indicative of mind, — not the empty — horrid laugh of the idiot." 

- Sterne. 

g5 



130 MY BOOK. 

29. Make no noise in eating— as, when you 
masticate with the lips unclosed — the action of 
the jaw is heard. It is equally had in drinking — 
gulping loudly is abominable— it is but habit — 
unrestrained, no more ; — but enough to disgust. 



30. To do any thing that might be obnoxious 
to censure— or even bear animadversion from 
eccentricity, you must take care not to commit. 



31. Be especially cautious not to drink — while 
your plate is sent to be replenished. 



32. A bright light— in a dirty lamp* — is not 
to be endured. 



33. The statue of the Achilles in Hyde Park 
is in bad taste ; — to erect a statue in honour of a 
hero — in a defensive attitude — when his good 
sword has carved his renown — ha ! ha ! ha ! 



34. When listening to any recital — to look at 
your watch— or exhibit any other expression of 



* If in the hall, or in your cab — this, if seen a second time- 
admits no excuse ; — turn away the man. 



MY BOOK. 131 

absence of thought, or fatigue, may not be done 
by the gentleman. 

35. No gentleman should drive at a rapid rate 
along a narrow thoroughfare "in muddy wea- 
ther ;*" he should bethink himself that the humble 
pedestrians may be involuntary sufferers. 



36. When a person is reading a placard or 
inspecting a picture — do not pass between him 
and the object of his contemplation. 



37. One of the most flagrant offences against 
the usages of society, that an individual can 
commit, is to neglect answering a letter ; it is 
sufficient to say of the person so offending — that, 
by this heinous omission, he forfeits all claim to 
the fair fame of " gentleman." We are equally 
culpable when we defer discharging this duty 
on the plea of business or engagements, as when 
we purposely put aside without answer the note 
we have received. If our correspondent be 
well-disposed towards us, he may admit our 
apology, and re-instate us in his favour again, — 
but we place ourselves entirely at his mercy, 
and how often from " trifles light as air" is the 
hand of friendship withdrawn ! 



132 MY BOOK. 

38. The most barbarous modern introduc- 
tion,— is the habit of wearing the hat in the 
" salon," as now practised even in the presence 
of the ladies. 



39. Parents, in the middle station of life 
are guilty of a great dereliction of duty in con- 
stantly repeating in the hearing of their children 
— we have no time to look into— -or read — any 
book but the ledger. Youth will have recrea- 
tion, reading is the cheapest and best, — we must 
then foster and encourage the practice. 



40. When in making a morning call, you 
give your card at the door — the servant should 
be instructed to do his duty — and not stand 
looking at the name on the card — while you 
speak to him. 



41. Perhaps nothing shows greater dis- 
respect — or lack of good breeding — than the 
constant use of the name of the party with 
whom you may be conversing. — The name should 
be very unfrequently repeated. 



42. It is a sad dereliction — after finding 
time to partake the luxuries and hospitality of 
your friend's table to neglect — or even defer 



MY BOOK. 133 

leaving your card. — On no account' omit this 
beyond the day or two, or at the farthest the 
Sunday following the entertainment in which 
you have participated. 



43. The custom of putting the knife in the 
mouth is so repulsive to our feelings as men, 
is so entirely at variance with the manners of 
gentlemen, — that I deem it unnecessary to in- 
veigh against it here. The very appearance of 
the act is 

" A monster of so odious mien — 



That to be hated, needs but to be seen. : 



GENERAL ORDER. 



Never give away a chance. — This general 
order is promulgated in mercy to those — who 
will neither think — nor act for themselves. 



Before a person, enters an omnibus, he 
should desire the conductor not to allow the 
vehicle to go on, till he be seated ; — and when 
alighting, never pay while on the steps, — first 
gain a sure footing on terra-firma. Many 
frightful accidents are continually taking place, 
from this indecision and heedlessness. 



These carriages are now in such general 
use, that there is scarce a man, who does not 
feel and occasionally avail himself of the ac- 
commodation ; — the undignified omnibus or 
steam-vessel — is now reconciled to the feelings 
of the most aristocratic. The general use will 
plead an excuse for this general order. 



135 



Many of the following passages are of that 
sublime character which is unfitted as quo- 
tation or illustration on ordinary occasions, 
but they are such, as Dr. Watts means, when 
he recommends that we should " treasure up 
some of the richest sentiments and expressions 
of the most admired writers," so to enrich 
our style — and ennoble our sentiments — that 
by making our thinking faculties more pure 
— we are the less likely to err in conduct. 



APHORISMS, OBSERVATIONS, 
AND PERIODS, 

FOR THE 

USE OF WRITERS AND SPEAKERS. 



' You with strict discipline instructed right, 
Have learn'd to use your arms before you fight." 

Roscommon. 



" Where an author has many beauties con- 
sistent with virtue, piety, and truth, let not 
little critics exalt themselves, and shower down 
their ill nature." 

Watts. 



136 



" When a language begins to teem with 
books it is tending to refinement, as those who 
undertake to teach others must have undergone 
some labour in improving themselves ; they set 
a proportionate value on their own thoughts, 
and wish to enforce them by efficacious ex- 
pressions. Speech becomes embodied and per- 
manent : different modes and phrases are com- 
pared, and the best obtain an establishment. 
By degrees one age improves upon another ; 
exactness is first obtained and afterwards 
elegance. But diction merely vocal is always 
in its childhood : as no man leaves his eloquence 
behind him, the new generations have all to 
learn. There may possibly be books without 
a polished language, but there can be no polished 
language without books."" 

Johnson. 



" I call beauty a social quality : for where 
men and women, and not only they, but when 
other animals give us a sense of joy and pleasure 
in beholding them, (and there are many that do 
so,) they inspire us with sentiments of tenderness 
and affection towards their persons ; we like to 
have them near us, and we enter willingly into 
a kind of relation with them, unless we should 



MY BOOK. 137 

have strong reason to the contrary. But to what 
end, in many cases, this was designed, I am 
unable to discover ; for I see no greater reason 
for a connection between man and several ani- 
mals who are attired in so engaging a manner, 
than between him and some others who entirely 
want this attraction, or possess it in a far weaker 
degree. But it is probable that Providence 
did not make even this distinction, but with a 
view to some great end, though we cannot per- 
ceive distinctly what it is, as his wisdom is not 
our wisdom, nor our ways his ways."" 

Burke. 



" We lament the mistakes of a good man, 
and do not begin to detest him until he affects 
to renounce his principles. 1 ' 

Junius. 



" The common duties and benefits of society, 
which belong to every man living, as we are 
social creatures, and even our native and ne- 
cessary relations to a family, a neighbourhood, 
or government, oblige all persons whatsoever to 
use their reasoning powers upon a thocisand oc- 
casions ; every hour of life calls for some regular 
exercise of our judgment, as to time and things, 



138 MY BOOK. 

persons and actions ; without a prudent and 
discreet determination in matters before us, we 
shall be plunged into perpetual errors in our 
conduct. Now that which should always be 
practised, must at some time be learnt. 1 ' 



" Thus it appears to be the necessary duty, 
and the interest of every person living, to im- 
prove his understanding, to inform his judgment, 
to treasure up useful knowledge, and to acquire 
the skill of good reasoning, as far as his station, 
capacity, and circumstances, furnish him with 
proper means for it. Our mistakes in judgment 
may plunge us into much folly and guilt in 

practice." 

Watts. 



" There is in man's nature a secret inclination 
and motion towards love of others which, if it 
be not spent upon some one or a few, doth 
naturally spread itself towards many, and maketh 
men become humane and charitable, as it is seen 
sometimes in friars. Nuptial love maketh man- 
kind ; — friendly love perfecteth it ;— but wanton 

love corrupteth and embaseth it." 

Bacon. 



MY BOOK. 139 

" A King knowing the value of science and 
of elegance — thinks every thing worthy of his 
notice, that tends to soften and humanize the 
mind." 

Sir Joshua Reynolds. 



" Avarice is a uniform and tractable vice ; 
other intellectual distempers are different in 
different constitutions of mind. , That which 
soothes the pride of one, will offend the pride of 
another ; but to the favour of the covetous 
bring money, and nothing is denied. 1 ' 

Johnson. 



"If beauty be attached to certain measures 
which operate from a principle in nature, why 
should similar parts, with different measures of 
proportion, be found to have beauty, and this 
too in the very same species? But to open 
our view a little, it is worth observing, that 
almost all animals have parts of very much the 
same nature, and destined nearly to the same 
purposes ; a head, neck, body, feet, eyes, ears, 
nose, and mouth ; yet providence, to provide in 
the best manner for their several wants, and to 
display the riches of his wisdom and goodness 



140 



MY BOOK. 



in his creation, has worked out of these few and 
similar organs and members a diversity hardly 
short of infinite, in their diposition, measure, and 
relation." 

Burke. 



" When the sovereign, who represents the 
majesty of the state, appears in person, his 
dignity should be supported. The occasion 
should be important ; the plan well considered, 
the execution steady and consistent. 11 

Junius 



" The thing, therefore, which I here recom- 
mend to persons of a polite education, is some 
acquaintance with good verse. To read it in 
the best authors, to learn to know and taste, and 
feel a fine stanza, as well as hear it, and to 
treasure up some of the richest sentiments and 
expressions of the most admired writers, is all 
that I mean in this advice. 11 

Watts. 



As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form, 
Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm ; 
Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, 
Eternal sunshine settles on its head." 

Goldsmith. 



MY BOOK. 141 

" Politeness is one of those advantages which 
we never estimate rightly, but by the incon- 
venience of its loss. Its influence upon the 
manners is constant and uniform, so that, like 
an equal motion, it escapes perception. The 
circumstances of every action are so adjusted to 
each other, that we do not see where any error 
could have been committed, and rather acquiesce 
in its propriety, than admire its exactness. 11 

Johnson. 



" Goodness answers to the theological virtue, 
charity, and admits no excess but error. The 
desire of power in excess caused the angels to 
fall ; the desire of knowledge in excess caused 
men to fall : but in charity there is no excess, 
neither can angel or man come in danger by it. 11 

Bacon. 



O had his powerful destiny ordain'd 

■Me some inferior Angel, 1 had stood 

Then happy ; no unbounded hope had raised 

Ambition. Yet why not ? some other power 

As great might have aspired, and me, though mean, 

Drawn to his part, but others powers as great 

Fell not, but stand unshaken, from within, 

Or from without, to all temptation armed. 

Hadst thou the same free will and power to stand ? 

Thou hadst : whom hast thou then or what to accuse, 



142 MY BOOK. 

But heaven's free love, dealt equally to all ? 
Be then his love accused, since love or hate, 
To me alike it deals eternal woe. 
Nay, cursed he thou ; since against his, thy will 
Chose freely what it now so justly rues." 

Milton. 



" I am persuaded, that by imitation only, 
variety, and even originality of invention, is 
produced. I will even go further ; even genius, 
at least what generally is so called, is the child 
of imitation." 

Sir Joshua Reynolds. 



" The beauty of woman is considerably owing 
to their weakness or delicacy, and is seen en- 
hanced by their timidity, a quality of mind 
analogous to it. I would not here be under- 
stood to say, that weakness, betraying very bad 
health, has any share in beauty; but the ill- 
effects of this is not because it is weakness, but 
because the ill state of health, which produces 
such weakness, alters the other conditions of 
beauty ; the parts is such a case collapse ; the 
bright colour, the ( lumen purpureum juventae 1 
is gone ; and the fine variation is lost in 
wrinkles, sudden breaks, and right lines.'" 

Burke. 



MY BOOK. 1 43 

" From such measures, simple and easy as they 
are, the greatest good may be expected; — but 
more especially from general education, and 
most of all from careful and religious intruction, 
without which, education will be worse than use- 
less. It is our business to sow the seed, and 
weed the ground well ; we may then look with 
full assurance for the harvest. Let us do our 
duty in enacting new laws where they are need- 
ful, and enforcing those which the wisdom of 
our ancestors has provided; we may then, to 
use the happy language of an old chronicler, 
trust, that all things may continually amend 
from evil to good, from good to better, and 
from better to the best.'" 

Southey. 



" They who rank pity amongst the original 
impulses of our nature, rightly contend, that, 
when this principle prompts us to the relief of 
human misery, it indicates the Divine intention, 
and our duty." 

Paley. 



But let or air contend or ocean rave ; 
E'en Hope subside, amid the billows tost ; 
Hope, still emergent, still contemns the wave, 
And not a feature's wonted smile is lost." 

Shenstone. 



144 



For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favour, ( 
Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood ; 
A violet in the youth of primy nature, 
Froward, not permanent ; sweet, not lasting ; 
The perfume and suppliance of a minute ; 
No more. 

I shall the effect of this good lesson keep, 

As watchman to my heart : but, good my brother, 

Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, 

Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven; 

Whilst, like a puff'd and reckless libertine, 

Himself the primcore path of dalliance treads, 

And recks not his own read." 

Shakspeare. 



" The horse, in the light of a useful beast, 
fit for the plough, the road, the draught, in every 
social useful light the horse has nothing of the 
sublime ; but is it thus that we are affected with 
him, ' whose neck is clothed with thunder, the 
glory of whose nostrils is terrible, who swal- 
loweth the ground, with fierceness and rage, 
neither believeth that it is the sound of the 
trumpet. 1 In this description the useful character 
of the horse entirely disappears, and the terrible 
and sublime blaze out together. We have con- 
tinually about us animals of a strength that is 
considerable, but not pernicious. Among these 



MY BOOK. 145 

we never look for the sublime ; it comes upon 

us in the gloomy forest, and in the howling 

wilderness, in the form of the lion, the tiger, the 

panther, or rhinoceros." 

Burke. 



Come, — come, — have confidence ; — 'tis the free rein 
Which takes the willing courser o'er the leap ; 
He'd miss, if you did check him!" 

Sheridan Knowles. 



Until with subtle cobweb-cheats, 
Th'are catch'd in knotted law, like nets: 
In which when once they are imbrangled, 
The more they stir, the more they 're tangled ; 
And while their purses can dispute, 
There 's no end of th' immortal suit." 

Hudibras. 



" Certainly wife and children are a kind of 
discipline of humanity ; and single men, though 
they may be many times more charitable, be- 
cause their means are less exhausted, yet, on the 
other side, they are more cruel and hardhearted, 
(good to make severe inquisitors,) because their 
tenderness is not so often called upon. Grave 
natures, led by custom, and therefore constant, 
are commonly loving husbands, as was said of 

H 



146 MY BOOK. 

Ulysses, ' vetulam suam praetulit immortalitati;' 
Chaste women are often proud and froward, as 
presuming upon the merit of their chastity. It 
is one of the best bonds, both of chastity and 
obedience in the wife, if she think her husband 
wise, which' she will never do if she find him 
jealous, 11 

Bacon. 



" A long time 
His life was doubtful, Signor, and he called 
For help, whence help alone could come, which l r 
Morning and night, invok'd along with him. 
So first our souls did mingle !" 

Sheridan Knowles, 



" Where e'er you tread, your foot shall set 
The primrose and the violet ; 
All spices, perfumes, and sweet powders, 
Shall borrow from your breath their odours ; 
Nature her charter shall renew, 
And take all lives of things from you ; 
The world depend upon your eye, 
And when you frown upon it, — die." 



" She never told her love, 
But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud 
Feed on her damask cheek : she pin'd in thought. 
And, with a green and yellow melancholy, 



She sat like patience on a monument, 
Smiling at grief." 



147 



Shakspeare. 



A passion like a seedling that did spring, 

Whose germ the winds had set ; of stem so fine, 

And leaf so small, to inexperienced sight, 

It passed for naught, — until with swelling trunk, 

And spreading branches, bowing all around, 

It stood a goodly tree ! " 

Sheridan Knowles. 



Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, 
Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, 
And while the bubbling and loud hissing urn 
Throws up a steamy column, and the cups 
That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, 
So let us welcome peaceful ev'ning in." 



Cowper. 



What is grandeur, what is power ? 
Heavier toil, superior pain. 
What the bright reward we gain ? 
The grateful memory of the good. 
Sweet is the breath of vernal shower, 
The bee's collected treasure's sweet, 
Sweet music's melting fall, but sweeter yet 
The still small voice of gratitude." 



Grat. 



148 MY BOOK. 



The blue one, Sir?" 

" No, love, the white. — Thus modestly attired, 

A half-blown rose stuck in thy braided hair, 

With no more diamonds than those eyes are made of, 

No deeper rubies than compose thy lips, 

Nor pearls more precious than inhabit them ; 

With the pure red and white, which that same hand 

Which blends the rainbow mingles in thy cheeks. 

This well-proportion'd form, (think not I flatter) 

In graceful motion to harmonious sounds, 

And thy free tresses dancing in the wind ; — 

Thou'lt fix as much observance, as chaste dames 

Can meet, without ablush." 

Tobin. 



" Sublimity is produced by aggregation, and 
littleness by dispersion. Great thoughts are 
always general, and consist in positions not 
limited by exceptions, and in descriptions not 
descending to minuteness. 11 

Johnson. 



" The ways to enrich are many, and most of 
them foul : parsimony is one of the best, and 
yet it is not innocent; for it withholdeth men 
from works of liberality and charity. 1 '' 

Bacon. 



MY BOOK. 149 

" Upon the whole, it seems to me, that the 
object and intention of all the arts is to supply 
the natural imperfections of things, and often to 
gratify the mind, by realizing and embodying 
what never existed but in the imagination. 1 ' 

Sir Joshua Reynolds. 



" The first and the simplest emotion which 
we discover in the human mind, is curiosity. 
By curiosity, I mean whatever desire we have 
for, or whatever pleasure we take in, novelty. 
We see children perpetually running from place 
to place to hunt out something new : they catch 
with great eagerness, and with very little choice, 
at whatever comes before them ; their attention 
is engaged by every thing, because every thing 
has, in that stage of life, the charm of novelty to 
recommend it. But as these things, which 
engage us merely by their novelty, cannot attack 
us for any length of time, curiosity is the most 
superficial of all affections; it changes its object 
perpetually; it has an appetite which is very 
sharp, but very easily satisfied ; and it has 
always an appearance of giddiness, restlessness, 
and anxiety." 

Burke. 



150 MY BOOK. 

" Conscious of his own weight and importance, 
his conduct in parliament would be directed by 
nothing but the constitutional duty of a peer. 
He would consider himself as a guardian of the 
laws. Willing to support the just measures of 
government, but determined to observe the 
conduct of the minister with suspicion, he would 
oppose the violence of faction with as much 
firmness as the encroachments of prerogative. 
He would be as little capable of bargaining 
with the minister for places for himself or his 
dependents, as of descending to mix himself in 
the intrigues of opposition. Whenever an im- 
portant question called for his opinion in par- 
liament, he would be heard by the most profligate 
minister with deference and respect. His autho- 
rity would either sanctify or disgrace the 
measures of government. The people would 
look up to him as their protector: and a 
virtuous prince would have one honest man in 
his dominions, in whose integrity and judgment 
he might safely confide. If it should be the 
will of Providence to afflict him with a domestic 
misfortune, he would submit to the stroke with 
feeling, but not without dignity. He would 
consider the people as his children, and receive 
a generous, heart-felt consolation in the sympa- 
thising tears and blessings of his country. 1 ' 

Junius. 



MY BOOK. 151 

** Whatever introduces habits in children, 
deserves the care and. attention of their gover- 
nors." 

Locke. 



" Let the circumstances of life be what or 
where they will, a man should never neglect 
improvement.' 1 

Watts. 

" Alas ! it is not requisite to be criminal, to 
suffer the punishment due to vice. - " 



u Is it not wonderful, that base desires should 
so extinguish in men the sense of their own 
excellence, as to make them willing that their 
souls should be like the souls of beasts, mortal 
and corruptible with their bodies ?" 

Hooker. 



" One of the most specious arguments alleged 
against the obligation of virtue, is the success 
that is often observed to attend the violation of 
it, in the general pursuits of the world." 



152 MY BOOK. 

".Vice is the natural growth of our corrup- 
tion. How irresistibly must it prevail, when the 
seeds of it are artfully sown, and industriously 

cultivated." 

Rogers. 



" The resolution, which we cannot reconcile 
to public good, has been supported by an 
obsequious party; and then, with usual methods, 

confirmed by an artificial majority." 

Swift. 



" The jealous man wishes himself a kind of 
deity to the person he loves; — he would be the 
only employment of her thoughts." 

Addison. 



" There are few higher gratifications than 
that of reflection on surmounted evils, when they 
were not incurred nor protracted by our fault, 
and neither reproach us with cowardice nor guilt." 

Johnson. 



" On the water the moon-beams played, and 
made it appear like floating quicksilver." 

Dryden. 



MY BOOK. 153 

" A man that studieth revenge keepeth his 

own wounds green, which otherwise would heal, 

and do well." 

Bacon. 



" I would not have children much beaten for 
their faults, because I would not have them think 
bodily pain the greatest punishment."" 

Locke. 



" Praise is so pleasing to the mind of man, 
that it is the original motive of almost all our 
actions." 

Johnson. 



" Solon compared the people unto the sea, 
and orators and counsellors to the wind; for 
that the sea would be calm and quiet, if the 
winds did not trouble it." 

Bacon. 



" A woman who is above flattery, and despises 
all praise, but that which flows from the appro- 
bation of her own heart, is, morally speaking, 
out of the reach of seduction." 

Richardson, 
h 5 



154 MY BOOK. 

" When a friend is turned into an enemy, and 
a. bewrayer of secrets, the world is just enough 
to accuse the perfidiousness of the friend.'" 

Addison. 



" The mind is but a barren soil ; a soil which 
is soon exhausted, and will produce no crop, or 
only one, unless it be continually fertilized and 
enriched with foreign matter." 

Sir Joshua Reynolds. 



" Oh ! the vast pleasure of being loved, in 
being respected for one's self alone !" 



" Profitable emplojrments would be no less a 
diversion than any of the idle sports in fashion, 
if men could but be brought to delight in 

them." 

Locke. 



" Those inward representations of spirit, 
thought, love, and hatred, are pure and mental 
ideas, belonging to the mind, and carry nothing 
of shape or sense in them." 

Watts. 



MY BOOK. 155 

" If he, to whom ten talents were committed, 
has squandered away five, he is concerned to 
make a double improvement of the remainder." 

Rogers. 



" To raise esteem, we must benefit others; 
to procure love, we must please them." 

John sox. 



" Riches do not consist in having more gold 
and silver, but in having more in proportion than 
our neighbours, whereby we are enabled to pro- 
cure to ourselves a greater plenty of the conve- 
niencies of life, than comes within their reach, 
who, sharing the gold and silver of the world in 
less proportion, want the means of plenty and 
power, and so are poor." 

Locke. 



" The balance must be held by a third hand, 
which is to deal power with the utmost exactness 
into the several scales." 

Swift. 



156 



MY BOOK. 



" Invention is one of the great marks of ge- 
nius ; but if we consult experience, we shall 
find, that it is by being conversant with the 
inventions of others, that we learn to invent ; as 
by reading the thoughts of others, we learn to 
think." 

Sir Joshua Reynolds. 



" Beware how in making the portraiture thou 
breakest the pattern ; for divinity maketh the 
love of ourselves the pattern; the love of our 
neighbours but the portraiture ; c Sell all thou 
hast, and give it to the poor, and follow me :' 
but sell not all thou hast, except thou come and 
follow me ; that is, except thou have a vocation 
wherein thou may'st do as much good with little 
means as with great; for otherwise, in feeding 
the stream, thou driest the fountain.' 11 

Bacon. 



" There is no blessing of life comparable to 
the enjoyment of a discreet and virtuous friend.'" 

Addison. 



Mankind have been forced to invent a kind 



MY BOOK. 157 

of artificial humanity, which is what we express 
by the word good-breeding. 1 "' 

Swift. 



" He who always prospers sees but the world 
on one side."" 



Hark, his hands the lyre explore ! 
Bright-eyed fancy hov'ring o'er, 
Scatters from her pictur'd urn, 
Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn." 
Gray. 



Lady M. W. Montague says, that " no 
entertainment is so cheap as reading, nor is any 
pleasure so lasting." 



So virtue blooms: brought forth amid the storms 
Of chill adversity, in some low walk 

Of life she rears her head, 

Obscure and unobserved. 

While every bleaching breeze that on her blows, 
Chastens her spotless purity of breast, 

And hardens her to bear 

Serene the ills of life." 



158 MY BOOK. 

" Trivial circumstances, which show themanners 
of the age, are often more instructive as well as 
more entertaining, than the great transactions of 
wars and negociations, which are nearly similar 
at all periods, and in all countries of the world. 1 ' 

Hume. 



" Injuries may be atoned for and forgiven, 
but insults admit no compensation, they degrade 
the mind in its own esteem, — and force it to 
recover its level by revenge." 

Junius. 



" A simple, naked statue, finished by the 
hand of a Grecian artist, is of more genuine 
value than all these rude and costly monuments 
of Barbaric labour : and, if we are more deeply 
affected by the ruin of a palace, than by the 
conflagration of a cottage, our humanity must 
have formed a very erroneous estimate of the 
miseries of human life.' 1 — Gibbon's Decline and 
Fall, Vol. IV., p. 173. 



" That the British infantry soldier is more 
robust than the soldier of any other nation, can 
scarcely be doubted by those who, in 1815, ob- 
served his powerful frame, distinguished amidst 



MY BOOK. 159 

the united armies of Europe, and notwith- 
standing his habitual excess in drinking, he 
sustains fatigue, and wet, and the extremes of 
cold and heat, with incredible vigour. When 
completely disciplined (and three years are re- 
quired to accomplish this), his port is lofty, and 
his movements free, the whole world cannot 
produce a nobler specimen of military bearing, 
nor is the mind unworthy of the outward man : 
he does not, indeed, possess that presumptuous 
vivacity which would lead him to dictate to his 
commanders, or even to censure real errors, 
although he may perceive them ; but he is 
observant, and quick to comprehend his orders, 
full of resources under difficulties, calm and re- 
solute in danger, and more than usually obedient 
and careful of his officers in moments of immi- 
nent peril."" — Napier's Peninsular War, Vol. 
III., p. 271. 

" Look here, upon this picture, and on this." 

After describing the most dreadful privations 
of men and officers in that disastrous retreat on 
Corunna, under Sir John Moore, the journal says: 

" How different was Tom, marching to school 
with his satchel on his back, from Tom with his 
musket and kitt * ; a private soldier, an atom of 

* Kitt, a term for a soldier's necessaries. 



160 MY BOOK. 

an army, unheeded by all ; his comforts sacri- 
ficed to ambition, his untimely death talked of 
with indifference, and only counted in the gross 
with hundreds, without a sigh I' 1 — Journal of a 
Soldier, p. 90. 



Heaven doth with us, as we with torches do ; 
Not light them for themselves : for if our virtues 
Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike 
As if we had them not." 

Shakspeare. 



" Notwithstanding all we meet with in books, 
in many of which, no doubt, there are a good 
many handsome things said upon the sweets of 
retirement, — yet still ' it is not safe for man to 
be alone $ nor can all which the cold-hearted 
pedant stuns our ears with upon the subject, ever 
give one answer of satisfaction to the mind ; in 
the midst of the loudest vauntings of philosophy, 
nature will have her yearnings for society and 
friendship ; — a good heart wants something to 
be kind to — and the best parts of the blood, and 
the purest of our spirits, suffer most under the 
destitution." 

Sterne. 



" That was the age of suppers ! — happy age ! 
meal of ease and mirth ; when wine and night 



MY BOOK. 161 

lit the lamp of wit ! O, what precious things 
were said and looked, at those banquets of the 
soul ! there, epicurism was in the lip as well as 
the palate, and one had humour for a hors- 
d'oeuvre and repartee for an entremet. In dinner, 
there is something too pompous, too formal, too 
exigent of attention, for the delicacies and levities 
of persiflage. One's intellectual appetite, like 
the physical, is coarse, but dull. At dinner, one 
is fit only for eating; after dinner, only for 
politics. Supper, — supper was a glorious relic 
of the ancients. 1,1 — The Disowned^ Vol. I., p. 195. 



When the great Kepler had at length dis- 
covered the harmonic laws that regulate the 
motions of the heavenly bodies, he exclaimed, 
" whether my discoveries will be read by pos- 
terity, or by my cotemporaries, is a matter that 
concerns them more than me. I may be well 
content to wait one century for a reader, when 
God himself, during so many thousand years has 
waited for an observer like myself.'" 



O poverty of earth 

That men do deeds which win them evil names, 
And spurn the names, but not the deeds which win them." 
Sheridan Knowles. 



162 MY BOOK. 

" Beauty is a thing much too affecting not to 
depend upon some positive qualities. And, 
since it is no creature of our reason, since it 
strikes us without any reference to use, and even 
where no use at all can be discerned, since the 
order and method of nature is generally very 
different from our measures and proportions, we 
must conclude that beauty is, for the greater 
part, some quality in bodies acting mechanically 
upon the human mind by the intervention of the 
senses. We ought, therefore, to consider atten- 
tively in what manner these sensible qualities 
are disposed, in such things as, by experience, 
we find beautiful, or which excite in us the 
passion of love, or some correspondent affection.'" 

Burke. 



" Beauty is as summer fruits, which are easy 
to corrupt, and cannot last ; and for the most 
part, it makes a dissolute youth, and an age a 
little out of countenance ; but yet certainly 
again, if it light well, it maketh virtues shine 
and vices blush."" 

Bacon. 



" .We will allow a poet to express his meaning, 
when his meaning is not well known to himself, 



MY BOOK. 163 

with a certain degree of obscurity, as it is one 
source of the sublime : but when, in plain prose, 
we gravely talk of courting the muse in shady 
bowers, waiting the call and inspiration of 
Genius, finding out where he inhabits, and where 
he is to be invoked with the greatest success ; of 
attending to times and seasons when the imagina- 
tion shoots with the greatest vigour, whether at 
the summer solstice or the vernal equinox ; saga- 
ciously observing how much the wild freedom 
and liberty of imagination is cramped by atten- 
tion to established rules; and how this same 
imagination begins to grow dim in advanced age, 
smothered and deadened by too much judgment; 
when we talk such language, or entertain such 
sentiments as these, we generally rest contented 
with mere words, or at best entertain notions not 
only groundless, but pernicious."" 

Sie Joshua Reynolds. 



" Why then I would not have my garden too 
extended, not because flowers are not the most 
beautiful things on earth, speaking to the senti- 
ment as well as the senses, but on account of 
the intrinsic and superior value of moderation. 
When interests are divided, they are not so 



164 MY BOOK. 

strong. Three acres of flowers and a regiment 
of gardeners, bring no more pleasure than a 
sufficiency. Because which, in the smaller pos- 
session, there is more room for mental pleasure 
to step in, and refine all that which is sensual. 
We become acquainted, as it were, and even form 
friendships with individual flowers. We bestow 
more care upon their bringing up, and progress. 
They seem sensible of our favour, absolutely to 
enjoy it, and make pleasing returns by their 
beauty, health, and sweetness. In this respect a 
hundred thousand roses, which we look at en 
masse, do not identify themselves with us in the 
same manner as even a small border ; and hence, 
if the cottager's mind is properly attuned, the 
little cottage garden may give him more real 
delight than belongs to the owner of a thousand 
acres. All this is so entirely nature, that give 
me a garden well kept, however small, two or 
three spreading trees, and a mind at rest, and I 
would defy the world.*' 

Ward's Human Life. 



You loved, and he did love ? 

I lov'd, indeed, if I but nurs'd a flower 

Which to the ground the rain and wind had beaten, 

That flower of all our garden was my pride." 

Sheridan Knowles. 



MY BOOK. 165 

O wad some pow'r the giftie gie us 
To see ourselves as others see us ! 
It wad frae monie a blunder free us 

And foolish notion : 
What airs in dress and gait wad lea'e us, 

And e'en Devotion!" 

Burns. 



" Our memories will be in a great measure 
moulded and formed, improved or injured, ac- 
cording to the exercise of them. If we never 
use them, they will be almost lost. Those who 
are wont to converse or read about a few things 
only, will retain but a few in their memory : 
those who are used to remember things but for 
an hour, and charge their memories with it no 
longer, will retain them but an hour before they 
vanish. And let words be remembered as well 
as things, that so you may acquire a copia ver- 
borum as well as rerum, and be more ready to 
express your mind on all occasions."" 

Watts. 



" Courage, in an ill-bred man, has the air, 
and escapes not the opinion, of brutality : learn- 
ing becomes pedantry ; wit, buffoonery ; plain- 
ness, rusticity ; good-nature, fawning : and there 
cannot be a good quality in him which want of 
breeding will not warp and disfigure to his dis- 



166 MY BOOK. 

advantage. Nay, virtue and parts, though they 
are allowed their due commendation, yet are not 
enough to procure a man a good reception, and 
make him welcome wherever he comes. Nobody 
contents himself with rough diamonds, and wears 
them so, who would appear with advantage. 
When they are polished and set, then they give 
a lustre. Good qualities are the substantial 
riches of the mind ; but it is good breeding sets 
them off: and he that will be acceptable, must 
give beauty, as well as strength, to his actions. 
Solidity, or even usefulness, is not enough ; a 
graceful way and fashion, in every thing, is that 
which gives the ornament and liking. And, in 
most cases, the manner of doing is of more con- 
sequence than the thing done ; and upon that 
depends the satisfaction, or disgust, wherewith 
it is received. This, therefore, which lies not in 
the putting off the hat, nor making of compli- 
ments, but in due and free composure of lan- 
guage, looks, motion, posture, place, &c, suited 
to such persons and occasions, and can be learned 
only by habit and use, though it be above the 
capacity of children, and little ones should not 
be perplexed about it, yet it ought to be begun, 
and in good measure learned, by a young gentle- 
man whilst he is under a tutor, before he comes 
into the world upon his own legs; for then 



MY BOOK. 167 

usually it is too late to hope to reform several 
habitual indecencies which lie in little things. 
For the carriage is not as it should be till it be- 
comes natural in every part ; falling, as skilful 
musicians' fingers do, into harmonious order, 
without care, and without thought. If in con- 
versation a man's mind be taken up with a soli- 
citous watchfulness about any part of his beha- 
viour, instead of being mended with it, it will be 
constrained, uneasy, and ungraceful.' 1 

Locke. 



" Then, her gentleness ! 

You had almost forgot to speak of that. 

Ay, there you touch me ! Yet, though she be prouder 

Than the vex'd ocean at its topmost height, 

And every breeze will chafe her to a storm, 

I love her still the better. Some prefer 

Smoothly o'er an unwrinkled sea to glide ; 

Others to ride the cloud- aspiring waves, 

And hear, amid the rending tackle's roar, 

The spirit of an equinoctial gale. 

What though a patient and enduring lover — 

Like a tame spaniel, that, with crouching eye 

Meets buffets and caresses — I have ta'en, 

With humble thanks, her kindness and her scorn ; 

Yet, when I am her husband, she shall feel 

I was not born to be a woman's slave." 

Tobin. 



168 MY BOOK. 

" But whate'er you are, 

That in this desert inaccessible, 

Under the shade of melancholy boughs, 

Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time ; 

If ever you have look'd on better days, 

If ever been where bells have knell'd to church ; 

If ever sat at any good man's feast ; 

If ever from your eye-lids wiped a tear, 

And know what 'tis to pity, and be pitied; 

Let gentleness my strong enforcement be." 

Shakspeaue. 



" Besides, whatever the frame of mind at the 
moment — whether of joy, or sorrow, — philoso- 
phical, or poetic, or devout, — if our authors are 
well chosen, there is scarcely a sentiment that 
cannot be found congenial to our humour, only 
set off with more elegance and force than our 
own thoughts or language can supply. Homer, 
Horace, and Virgil, among the ancients, and 
Shakspeare, Spencer, Milton, Dryden, Pope, 
and Boileau, among the moderns, are admirable 

specimens of this.'"' 

Ward's Human Life. 



Our life contains a thousand springs, 

And dies if one be gone ; 
Strange, that a harp of thousand strings, 

Should keep in tune so long." 

Watts. 



Nature is but a name for an effect, 
Whose cause is God. 

'» • * * 

The heart is hard in nature, and unfit 
For human fellowship, as being void 
Of sympathy, and therefore dead alike 
To love and friendship both, that is not pleased 
With sight of animals enjoying life, 
Nor feels their happiness augment his own. 
The bounding fawn, that darts across the glade 
When none pursues, through mere delight of heart, 
And spirits buoyant with excess of glee ; 
The horse as wanton, and almost as fleet, 
That skims the spacious meadow at full speed, 
Then stops, and snorts, and throwing high his heels, 
Starts to the voluntary race again ; 
The very kine, that gambol at high noon, 
The total herd receiving first from one, 
That leads the dance, or summons to be gay, 
Though wild their strange vagaries and uncouth 
Their efforts, yet resolv'd with one consent 
To give such act and utt' ranee as they may 
To ecstacy, too big to be suppress'd ; — 
These, and a thousand images of bliss, 
With which kind nature graces every scene 
. Where cruel man defeats not her design, 
Impart to the benevolent, who wish 
All that are capable of pleasure pleas'd, 
A far superior happiness to theirs — 
The comfort of a reasonable joy." 

Cowper. 



will not, uncle : I have forgot my father ; 
[ know no touch of consanguinity ; 



170 MY BOOK. 

No kin, no love, no blood, no soul so near me, ' 
As the sweet Troilus. O yon gods divine ! 
Make Cressid's name the very crown of falsehood, 
If ever she leave Troilus ! Time, force, and death- 
Do to this body what extremes you can ; 
But the strong base and building of my love 
Is as the very centre of the earth, 
Drawing all things to it. — I'll go in, and weep ; 
Tear my bright hair, and scratch my praised cheeks ; 
Crack my clear voice with sobs, and break my heart 
With sounding Troilus. I will not go from Troy !" 

Shakspeare. 



Of Shakspeare. — Vide W mid'' s Human Life. 

" For who so inexhaustible in his varieties ? 
who so profound in his knowledge — his know- 
ledge of all the hidden springs of the heart, and 
of the causes or effects of human events ! What 
feeling is there undescribed? What motive 
unexplored? What passion not developed? 
What duty not enforced ? Ambition, avarice, 
prodigality, revenge, patriotism, filial piety, 
conjugal love ! All the romance and witcheries 
of imagination ! — all the home-felt realities of 
life ! If we look for pathos, who so pathetic ? 
For wit, who so witty ? For humour, who so 
humorous? In epic, beyond all, heroic. In 



MY BOOK. 171 

tenderness, beyond all, sweet, indeed (to use his 
own words), 

" Sweet as summer." 

In description, ever appropriate, he is gorgeous 
and sublime, or gentle and soothing, as the sub- 
ject requires ; whether Cleopatra sail down the 
Cydnus, or 'towers topple on their warders 1 
heads.' In short, in such immeasurable va- 
rieties of knowledge and imagery, who could 
ever find an end ? or, closing the book, say he 
had finished ? No ! a thousand lives might 
pass, and the lessons not be terminated." 



" There is speaking well, speaking easily -, 
speaking justly, and speaking seasonably. It is 
offending against the last, to speak of entertain- 
ments before the indigent ; of sound limbs and 
health before the infirm ; of houses and lands 
before one who has not so much as a dwelling ; 
in a word, to speak of your prosperity before 
the miserable ; this conversation is cruel, and the 
comparison, which naturally rises in them betwixt 
their condition and your's, is excruciating.'" 

Bruyere. 



172 MY BOOK. 

" Patience, unmoved, no marvel though she pause ; 
They can be meek that have no other cause. 
A wretched soul, bruised with adversity, 
We bid be quiet when we hear it cry : 
But were we burden' d with like weight of pain, 
As much, or more, we should ourselves complain." 

Shakspeari 



" A sound mind in a sound body is a short 
but full description of a happy state in this 
world : he that has these two, has little more to 
wish for ; and he that wants either of them, will 
be but little the better for any thing else. Men's 
happiness or misery is most part of their own 
making. He whose mind directs not wisely, 
will never take the right way ; and he whose 
body is crazy and feeble, will never be able to 
advance in it. I confess there are some men's 
constitutions of body and mind so vigorous and 
well framed by nature, that they need not much 
assistance from others, but, by the strength of 
their natural genius, they are, from their cradles, 
carried towards what is excellent, and, by the 
privilege of their happy constitutions, are able 
to do wonders. But examples of this kind are 
but few ; and I think I may say, that of all 
men we meet with, nine parts of ten are what 



MY BOOK. 173 

they are, good or evil, useful or not, by "their 
education. It is that which makes the great 
difference in mankind. The little, or almost 
insensible, impressions on our tender infancies 
have very important and lasting consequences : 
and there it is, as in the fountain of some rivers, 
where a gentle application of the hand turns the 
flexible waters into channels that make them 
take quite contrary courses; and by this little 
direction given them at first in the source, they 
receive different tendencies, and arrive at last at 
very remote and distant places. 1 ' 

Locke. 



" I am far, very far from supposing that 
leisure in retirement, and solitude, which you 
call monotony, could suit the multitude, or any 
one who has passed his life in business, and feels 
suddenly deprived of it, without other resources 
to fill up his hours. It is not, therefore, the 
monotony of employment, but the want of it 
altogether, that occasions ennui. Hence, but 
for my management of myself, and the store I 
had laid in for resource and relief when alone, 
I should either have never left business, or long 
ago returned to it. As it is, the mere love of 
reading, — which Gibbon found out was a passion 



174 MY BOOK. 

which derives fresh vigour from enjoyment, and 
supplies each day and each hour with perpetual 
pleasure, — gives to the student an empire over 
himself, which no Emperor ever had. Recollect 
Pradfs account of Buonaparte in peace: 'Je 
m'ennuie ici jusqua perir. II faut que je fasse 
la guerre. Je la ferai a la Prusse.' " 

Ward's Human Life. 



I tell thee what, Antonio, — 
I love thee, and it is my love that speaks ; — 
There are a sort of men ; whose visages 
Do cream and mantle, like a standing pond ; 
And do a wilful stillness entertain, 
With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion 
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit ; 
As who should say, I am Sir Oracle, 
And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark ! 
O, my Antonio, I do know of these, 
That therefore only are reputed wise, 
For saying nothing." 

Shakspeare. 



" There are many acts of graciousness and 
conciliation which are to be practised without 
expense, and by which those may be made our 
friends, who have never received from us any 
real benefit. Such arts, when they include nei- 



MY BOOK. 175 

ther guilt nor meanness, it is surely reasonable 
to learn ; for who would want that love which 
is so easily to be gained P' 1 

Johnson. 



" The carol of the lark, that has so well been 
called ' the light-enamoured bird,' the hum of 
the bees; the verdure and gorgeous blossoms 
of the woods; these are sources of pleasure 
common to all. So also the perfume of the air ; 
though merely from thorns, and lilacs, and 
limes ; to say nothing of grain, or tedded grass, 
or kine. But all these are nothing to what a 
contemplative man can make them by associa- 
tion. We ourselves partake vividly of the fresh- 
ness. Every thing is new, or renewed; the 
heart, the body, the intellect itself. Then come 
those moments, c sweeter than honey, or the 
honeycomb,'' when the mind revolves its own 
powers in self-examination ; which is always 
best in the sweet cool of the morning, before 
excitement or passion can be roused, and we 
are alive only to gratitude to the all Giver for 
the goodness he has bestowed. 

This makes the whole soul run over, and 
what was a sense immediately becomes a senti- 
ment, only heightened and refined, in a tenfold 



176 MY BOOK. 

degree, by grateful piety. The zest which 
this mixture of mind communicates, can only be 
understood by those who have felt it."" 

Ward's Human Life. 



6i I confess it would be of considerable ad- 
vantage, if the various parts of learning and 
business in which children are employed were so 
happily contrived, that one might be, as it were, 
a relaxation or diversion, when the mind is tired 
of the other : and if children have a taste and 
relish of reading and improvement of the mind, 
there is a rich variety of entertainment to be 
found in books of poetry, history, accounts of 
the wonders of art and nature, as well as inge- 
nious practices in mechanical and mathematical 
affairs. It is happiest indeed where this relish 
is the gift of nature ; yet children may be 
trained up, by wise and alluring methods, to 
delight in knowledge, and to choose such sort of 
recreations, especially in winter nights, and rainy 
seasons, when they cannot enjoy the more active 
diversions abroad. Yet, besides these, some 
other sorts of sports will generally be found 
necessary for children of almost all dispositions. 

" And their sports ought to be such as are in 
some measure chosen by themselves, that they 



177 



may be matter of delight,, yet still under the 
regulations of the eye and prudence of a parent. 
No sort of play should be permitted wherein 
sacred things become a matter of jest or merri- 
ment. No sport should be indulged wherein 
foul language, ill names, or scandal are practised ; 
wherein there is any violation of modesty, or of 
the rules of decency and cleanliness; nothing 
must be suffered where there is any breach of 
the moral precepts of the law of God ; wherein 
cozening, cheating, falsehood, or lying are prac- 
tised or allowed. They should be confined to 
honesty, justice, truth, and goodness, even in 
their very play. 

" They should not be permitted to use such 
sporting as may tend to discompose their spirits, 
disorder their nature, injure their flesh, prejudice 
their health, break their limbs, or do mischief to 
themselves, or each other. Nor should they ever 
be allowed to practise those diversions that carry 
an idea of barbarity and cruelty in them, though 
it be but to brute creatures. r) 

Watts. 



" The first creature of God, in the works of 
the days, was the light of the sense ; the last was 
the light of reason ; and his sabbath work, ever 
i 5 



178 MY BOOK. 

since, is the illumination of the Spirit. First, he 
breathed light upon the face of the matter, or 
chaos ; then he breathed light into the face of 
man ; and still he breathed and inspired light 
into the face of his chosen. The poet that beau- 
tified the sect; that was otherwise inferior to the 
rest, saith yet excellently well, ' It is a pleasure 
to stand upon the shore, and to see ships tossed 
upon the sea ; a pleasure to stand in the window 
of a castle and to see a battle, and the adventures 
thereof below; but no pleasure is comparable 
to the standing upon the vantage ground of 
truth (a hill not to be commanded, and where 
the air is always clear and serene,) and to see the 
errors, and wanderings, and mists, and tempests, 
in the vale below -, 1 so always, that this prospect 
be with pity, and not with swelling or pride. 
Certainly it is heaven upon earth to have a man's 
mind move in charity, rest in Providence, and 
turn upon the poles of truth. 

c * The pass from theological and philosophical 
truth to the truth of civil business, it will be 
acknowledged, even by those who practise it not, 
that clear and round dealing is the honour of 
man's nature, and that mixture of falsehood is 
like alloy in coin of gold and silver, which may 
make the metal work the better, but it embaseth 
it : for these winding and crooked courses are 



MY BOOK. 179 

the goings of the serpent; which goeth basely 
upon the belly, and not upon the feet. There 
is no vice that doth so cover a man with shame 
as to be found false and perfidious ; and there- 
fore Montaigne saith prettily, when he inquired 
the reason why the word of the lie should be 
such disgrace, and such an odious charge, ' If 
it be well weighed, to say that a man lieth, is as 
much as to say that he is brave towards God, and 
a coward towards men : for a lie faces God, and 
shrinks from man.' Surely the wickedness of 
falsehood and breach of faith cannot possibly be 
so highly expressed as in that it shall be the last 
appeal to call the judgments of God upon the 
generations of men ; it being foretold that when 
' Christ cometh,' he shall not ' find faith upon 
earth.' " 

Bacon. 



(181) 



NOTES. 



PROLEGOMENA.— (Page xiv.) 

(A.) " Blackstone says that the last duty of parents to their 
children is that of giving them an education suitable to their 
station in life ; a duty pointed out by reason, and of the greatest 
importance of any. For, as Puffendorf very justly observes, 
it is not easy to imagine, or allow that a parent has conferred 
any considerable benefit on his child by bringing him into the 
world, if he afterwards entirely neglects his culture and educa- 
tion, and suffers him to grow up like a beast ; to lead a life 
useless to others, and shameful to himself." 



in. modesty. — (Page 2.) 
(1, 2.) " The honour of a maid is her name ; and no legacy 
is so rich as honesty." 

Shakspeare. 

" With however just a pride wronged innocence may 
disdain injurious aspersions; female fame, like the wife of 
Caesar, must be 'above suspicion.'" 



182 



VII. THE LOVER. — {Page 4.) 
(3.) " In the art of winning upon female confidence, I had 
long been schooled ; and now — to the lessons of gallantry, the 
inspiration of love was added, my ambition to please and to 
interest could hardly, it may be supposed, fail of success. I 
soon found, however, how much less fluent is the heart than the 
fancy, and how very distinct are the operations of making love 
and of feeling it." 

Moore's Epicurean., 



viii. the smoker.— {Page 5.) 

(4.) " I hate smoking, and I would the practice were abolish- 
ed. Were a certain great author's style of conversation and of 
writing now in vogue, I would say to our modern Bardolphs, 
who carry the admiral's light in their mouths instead of the 
nose, — ' Sir, no man has a right to smoke ; he who smokes 
destroys the fundamental principle of human society; Sir, men 
could never congregate for social enjoyment but upon a primary 
principle, that no man has a right to disturb the personal 
comfort of his neighbour. Now, Sir, he who pollutes the at- 
mosphere by the circumgiratory ignition of the convalved 
lamina of either an oriental or occidental shrub, emitting spiral 
fumigations which inspirate the respirable essence, and send 
out moliculae to taint our habiliments for many hours, saps the 
very foundations of social existence, for every individual has 
an inalienable right to pure respirations of the atmospheric 
element, and he who invades that right for his selfish enjoyment 
I pronounce a savage. I could as soon think of admitting 
such a man into my drawing-room as a Whig or a Noncon- 
formist!' But, without this anathema, smoking has long been 
on the decline. In the House of Commons, there is but one 



NOTES. 183 

room in which smoking is permitted by the ' lex Parliamentaria 
non scripta.' Years ago the Plutonic lobby used to be 
crowded, and to send forth its villainous compound of unsa- 
voury smells; but for five years there has scarcely been a 
cigar — or a smoker — in the room ; last Session I did not see 
one ; though I must confess that there have been a few vain 
attempts this year to 'revive the good old times.' Society 
owes this reformation to the shop-boys and clerks of London — 
a debt of gratitude, as large and as perpetual as the national 
debt of England. As soon as apprentices, mechanics, and 
artisans become recherche in cigars — not all the laws of the 
universe could have retained smoking in favour with persons 
of fashion ; — such fumigatory vulgarities are principally con- 
fined to the Regent's Park on a summer's evening. Perhaps 
prejudice, or my antipathy to this vile practice, may taint my 
philological science, but I never could derive cigar from any 
other etymology than the French preposition ci, and the old 
French word gar, from which has been derived the word 
garder, — or, in other terms, ci-gar must have formerly meant, 
' be on your guard here ;' a caution requisite at the approach 
of so unpleasant an animal as the smoker. Our old poet, 
Cleveland, says, ' Why'should the smoke pursue the fair ?' and 
Cowley says, ' he knew tears caused by smoke, but not by 
flame.' It is clear, therefore, that smoking should never be 
tolerated by ' the fair,' but should be confined to the drawing 
rooms and court of Timbuctoo. The last man 'in decent 
society' who made it an habitual practice to smoke was 

Lord , and his reputation was stabbed to death by the 

bon-mot of Lady , who protected him in the practice, 

by observing • what a pity it would be to deprive such a good 
sort of a man of the only enlightened thing that ever approached 
him.'" — Court Journal, 1830. 



184 



xiv. conscience. — (Page 9.) 

(5.) "Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, 

That to be hated it needs but to be seen ; 
Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, 
We first endure, then pity, then embrace ?" 

" What conscience dictates to be done, 
Or warns me not to do, 
This teach me more than hell to shun, 
That more than heav'n pursue." 

Pope. 



XIX. THE BALL ROOM. — (Page 12.) 

(6.) Never, my fair reader, have a gold chain or band round 
your forehead with a gem in the centre ; this style is not to be 
endured, for the furnished outside indicates the unfurnished 
apartment within. 

If the subject were not too uninteresting for these pages, I 
might write along dissertation, to show the well-founded reason 
of the Jews' admiration of jewellery. In times gone by, — 
when they had no share in the states in which they lived, — 
and were unprotected by the laws, — aliens to the soil, — and a 
distinct nation wherever they were, — selling the coat they did 
not make, — and the corn they grew not, — as agents of barter — 
amongst the more ignorant natives, — the Jews amassed im- 
mense wealth in produce, — and the smaller the compass to 
which it could be condensed the more available, and conse- 
quently valuable it became. Hence their hoard of gems, — the 
greatest value in the smallest bulk ; — this was occasioned by 
the absolute necessity of keeping their treasure out of sight of 



NOTES. 185 

the then lawless nations of the earth, who professed they were 
doing God good service, — when they persecuted, even to the 
death, an abject and outcast race, — which persecution rarely 
took place, but with those who had the reputation of great 
wealth ; their seeming poverty being their only protection. 



xxii. OF woman. — (Pages 15 and 16.) 

(7, 8.) " It seems to be the peculiar province of women to 
nurse the sick. A man's heart may writhe with anguish ; his mind 
may preserve collectedness on any sudden emergency ; but see 
him placed in the shadow, rather than the light, of the melan- 
choly lamp which burns in the chamber of a protracted illness ; 
let him be appointed to count the tedious hours of the night, 
and wait in sleepless loneliness the entrance of the grey dawn 
through the half-closed shutters : let him be appointed to this 
ministration for the sake of the brother of his heart, of the 
parent of his being, and his grosser nature (even when it is 
most refined) will tire, his eyes grow heavy with sleep, and his 
spirit weary of the dreary task of long watching ; for, although 
love and anxiety remain undiminished, he is unaccustomed to 
self-sacrifice, his patience will fail in the details of a sick 
chamber :— not so a woman. 

" Behold a mother, — a sister, — or a wife in his place ; the 
woman feels no fatigue, either of body or mind : her spirit 
bears up to a total forgetfulness of self, in silence, in the night 
season, in vigils, in watchings, she labours in her vocation as a 
ministering angel, not merely in patient fulfilment of her task, 
but — so far as a qualified meaning may be applied to a word — 
joyfully. Her ear acquires a blind man's instinct, as at intervals 
it catches the lightest sounds ; a motion, a breathing, quicker 
or slower, of the dear one, now dearer still, as laying under the 



186 NOTES. 

chastening hand of God, her sleep is noiseless ; her yoice is 
subdued to so hushed a tone, that it never breaks forth into the 
cry of alarm, even when the heart is sick with terror, and thus 
day after day, night after night, the devoted nurse tends the 
object of her affection like an angel sent from Heaven. When 
all earthly skill has failed to sooth, or cure, her eyes have never 
closed, her moral courage never deserted her ; and where all 
has been unavailing to prolong existence, she has, by her ten- 
derness and piety, disarmed the king of terrors, and made the 
Christian exclaim, "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, 
where is thy victory?" — The Devoted, ch. 19. 

' By our present mode of education — we are forcibly 
warped from the bias of nature, until even our thinking faculty 
is diverted into an unnatural channel. We are changed into 
creatures of art and affectation ; our perception is abused ; our 
senses perverted ; our minds lose their force and flavour — till 
the soul sinks into a kind of idiotism, and is diverted by toys 
and baubles, enlivened by a quick succession of trivial objects 
that glisten, glance, and dance before the eye, — like an infant 
kept awake, and inspirited by the sound of a rattle." 

Smollet. 



xxiv. of marriage. — {Page 25.) 

(9.) " In the common course of European education, young 
women are trained to make an agreeable figure, and to behave 
with decency and propriety : very little culture is bestowed on 
the head, and less on the heart, if it be not the art of hiding 
passion. Education, so slight and superficial, is far from 
seconding the purpose of nature, that of making women fit 
companions for men of sense. Due cultivation of the female 



NOTES. 187 

mind would add greatly to the happiness of males, and still 
more to that of females. Time runs on, and when youth and 
beauty vanish, a fine lady, who never entertained a thought 
into which an admirer did not enter, finds in herself a la- 
mentable void, occasioning discontent and peevishness. But a 
woman who has merit, improved by a virtuous and refined 
education, retains in her decline an influence over the men, 
more flattering than even that of beauty : she is the delight of 
her friends, as formerly of her admirers. Admirable would be 
the effects of such refined education, contributing no less to 
public good than to private happiness. A man, who at present 
must degrade himself into a fop or a coxcomb, in order to 
please the women, would soon discover, that their favour is not 
to be gained, but by exerting every manly talent in public and 
in private life ; the two sexes, instead of corrupting each other, 
would be rivals in the race of virtue ; mutual desire of pleasing 
would give smoothness to their behaviour, delicacy to their 
sentiments, and tenderness to their passions." 

Lord Kaimes's History of Man. 

" Long has Phronissa known that domestic virtues are the 
business and the honour of the sex. Nature and history agree, 
to assure her that the conduct of the household is committed 
to the women, and the precepts and examples of scripture 
confirm it. She educated her daughters, therefore, in constant 
acquaintance with all family affairs, and they knew betimes 
what belonged to the provisions of the table, and the furniture 
of every room. The servants that waited on them, and the 
books that were left within their reach, were such as never cor- 
rupted their minds with impure words or images. Though her 
circumstances were considerable in the world, yet, by her own 
example she made her children know, that a frequent visit to 
the kitchen was not beneath their state, nor the common 



188 NOTES. 

menial affairs too mean for their notice, that they might be able 
hereafter to manage their own house, and not be directed, 
imposed upon, and perhaps ridiculed by their own servants." 

Watts. 



XXVII. OF DUELLING. — {Page 30.) 

(10.) " The law of honour is a system of rules constructed 
by people of fashion, and calculated to facilitate their inter- 
course with one another, and for no other purpose. 

" Certainly, nothing is adverted to by the law of honour, but 
what tends to incommode this intercourse. Hence this law 
only prescribes and regulates the duties between equals ; omit- 
ting such as relate to the Supreme Being, as well as those 
which we owe to our inferiors. 

" For which reason, profaneness, neglect of public worship 
or private devotion, cruelty to servants, rigorous treatment of 
tenants or other dependents, want of charity to the poor, inju- 
ries done to tradesmen by insolvency or delay of payment, with 
numberless examples of the same kind, are accounted no 
breaches of honour ; because a man is not a less agreeable 
companion for these vices, nor the worse to deal in those con- 
cerns which are usually transacted between one gentleman and 
another. 

" Again ; the law of honour, being constituted by men occu- 
pied in the pursuit of pleasure, and for the mutual convenience of 
such men, will be found, as might be expected from the charac- 
ter and design of the law-makers, to be, in most instances, 
favourable to the licentious indulgence of the natural passions. 
" Thus it allows of fornication, adultery, drunkenness, pro- 
digality, duelling, and of revenge in the extreme ; and lays no 
stress upon the virtues opposite to these." — Paley's Moral 
Philosophy. 



189 



xxxvi. of early rising. — (Pages 50 and 51.) 

(11, 12.) " The difference between rising between five and 
seven o'clock in the morning for the space of forty years, sup- 
posing a person to go to bed at the same hour at night, is 
nearly equivalent to the addition of ten years to one's life." — 
Doddridge's Family Expositor. 

" This tyrannical habit attacks life in its essential powers; it 
makes the blood forget its way, and creep lazily along the 
veins; it relaxes the fibres, unstrings the nerves, evaporates, 
the animal spirits, saddens the soul, dulls the fancy, subdues 
and stupifies man to such a degree that he, the lord of the 
creation, hath no appetite for any thing in it — loathes labour, 
yawns for want of thought, trembles at the sight of a spider, 
and in the absence of that, at the creatures of his own gloomy 
imagination." — Robinson's Morning Exercises. 

" A young lady was reduced to such extreme weakness, as 
to require assistance in walking across the room ; and imagining 
so enfeebled a state required a larger portion of sleep, she 
generally lay eight or nine hours, but in the morning found 
herself as relaxed and fatigued as at night, and unable to dress 
without the relief of resting two or three times. On reading 
Wesley's Sermon on Early Rising, she was so perfectly con- 
vinced of the propriety of the reasoning, that by rising 
gradually earlier every morning she soon lessened the time of 
sleep to six hours ; her strength daily increased, and by per- 
severing in the practice, together with cold bathing and mode- 
rate exercise, the disorders which had so long afflicted her were 
removed ; and deeply sensible of the great mental and bodily 
advantage of early rising, only regrets that the habit had not 
been formed at a much earlier period of life." 

This account has appeared in some of the last editions of 
Weslev's Sermons. 



190 



xxxix. of table cookery. — (Page 55.) 

(13.) Sancho Panza says thus to his master Don Quixote, 
Vol. I., page 112. 

" Provided I have plenty, I can eat as much, nay more to 
my satisfaction, standing on my legs, and in my own company, 
than if I were to sit by the side of an emperor ; and if the 
truth must be told, I had much rather dine by myself in a 
corner — though it should be on a bit of bread and an onion, 
without all your niceties and ceremonies, than eat turkey 'at 
another man's table where I am obliged to chew softly, to drink 
sparingly, to wipe my mouth every minute, to abstain from 
sneezing, or coughing, though I should be ever so much inclined 
to either, and from a great many other things, which I can 
freely do, when alone." 



xl. of wine. — (Page 56.) 

(14.) " An officer in India, who had just been raised from 
the ranks for his gallantry, being invited to the Governor's 
table, was asked by the Governor's lady as a marked compli- 
ment, to take wine. ■' No ma'am, I thank you,' — replied the 
unsophisticated hero, — ' I never takes wine ; but I'm a tiger 
at beer.' " 



XLI. OF DRUNKENNESS. (Page 57.) 

(15.) " Fill the cup, the bowl, the glass, 
With wine and spirits high ; 
And we will drink, while round they pass, 
To 1 — vice and misery ! 



NOTES. 191 

Push quickly round the draught again, 

And drain the goblet low ; 
And drink in revelry's swelling strain, 

To • reason's overthrow ! 

Push round, push round, in quickest time 

The lowest drop be spent, 
In one loud round, to guilt and crime, 

And crime's just punishment. 

Push round, push round, with loudest cheer 

Of mirth and revelry ! 
We drink to — woman's sighs and tears ! 

And children's poverty ! 

Once more, while power shall yet remain, 

E'en with its latest breath, 
Drink — to ourselves disease and pain — 

And infamy and death !" 

William Hone. 



XLIX. OF THE SABBATH. (Page 64.) 

(15*) " Works of necessity and mercy are lawful on the Lord's 
day, as our Saviour proved by argument and example ; but to 
spend it (as many do,) in alehouses and taverns, in games and 
idle amusements, is so far from being lawful or suitaWe exer- 
cise, that I conceive it is a greater profanation of it than bodily 
labour. ' O, my soul, come not thou into their secret; unto 
their assembly, mine honour, be not thou united.' 

" This may deserve the serious consideration of those parents 
who let their children make a play day of the Sabbath, and 
contract such a habit as makes them indifferent about religion 



192 NOTES. 

as long as they live. It may also deserve the consideration of 
those young people, who instead of reading and praying, and 
endeavouring to make themselves wiser and better, follow such 
idle exercises as drive all religious thoughts out of their minds." 
Rev. W. Richardson. 

" An interval, of ten miles of uninteresting country lay 

between this walk and my arrival at the park of P , one 

of the most extensive and beautiful in Ireland ; — but it was 
Sunday ; — the lord of the domain — a saint, — and of course the 
gate on this day, according to his view of the matter, a pious 
man must on no account leave his house except to enclose 
himself within the gloomy walls of a damp church ; on no 
account rejoice himself in God's own wond'rous and magnifi- 
cent temple. This was a sin to which Lord P would by 

no means afford encouragement, and, at his recent departure, 
had, therefore, prohibited the opening of his gate. Instructed 
by the adventure which you may remember befel me in Eng- 
land, I made no attempt at winning a passage by means of a 
gift, but pursued my walk along a wall, over which, from time 
to time, I cast a longing and stolen glance at the magnificent 
waterfall and enchanting scene. ' Thou beneficent God!' 
thought I, 'in what different ways art thou worshipped. One 
man roasts his neighbour to thy honour ; another fashions thee 
as Apis : some represent thee more partial and unjust than the 
devil himself; others think they offer thee most acceptable 
service when they deface thy loveliest gifts, or deprive them- 
selves and others of the enjoyment of them.' Oh, Lord 

P , you will not read these lines ; but it were good for 

you if you could, and if you would lay them to heart ! — full 
many a poor man, who sweats through the whole week that he 
may pay your rent, would feel his heart expand with joy on a 
Sunday, in your beautiful park, and would bless the goodness 
of that God who has not left him wholly destitute ; who has 



NOTES. 193 

spread out before his eyes the glory and the beauty of -creation. 
And this joy would be reflected back upon yourself; — but per- 
haps you are not even present ? perhaps you send your pious 
commands from afar ? You are, perhaps, like so many of your 
colleagues, one of those • absentees,' who, by the hands of 
ravenous and merciless agents, strip the people of their last 
rag, rob them of their last potatoe, to enrich the charlatans of 
London, Paris, or Italy. Then, indeed, if that be the case, 
your religion can hardly go beyond superstitious veneration of 
the Sunday, and for the ceremonies of your priests." — Tour of 
a German Prince, Vol. I., p. 198. 

" If every person," says Bishop Blomfield, as quoted by the 
Rev. Charles Wesley in his ' Commentary on the Church 
Catechism,' "who pretends to any religion, would fairly put it 
to his own conscience and reason, what kind of employment on 
the Sunday would be really most conducive to his own im- 
provement, and to the honour of religion, he would need no 
casuist to resolve him what might, or might not, be done upon 
the Lord's day." 



li. of seduction. — (Page 70.) 
(16.) " There is not, perhaps, in all the stores of ideal 
anguish, a thought more painful than the consciousness of 
having propagated corruption by vitiating principles; of having 
not only drawn others from the path of virtue, but blocked up 
the way by which they should return ; of having blinded them 
to every beauty but the paint of pleasure ; and deafened them 
to every call, but the alluring voice of the syrens of destruc- 
tion." 

Johnson. 

" How abandoned is that heart which bulges the tear of 
innocence, and is the cause — the fatal cause — of overwhelming 
K 



194 



the spotless soul, and plunging the yet untainted mind into a 
sea of sorrow and repentance ! Though born to protect the 
fair, does not man act the part of a demon — first alluring by 
his temptations, and then triumphing in his victory V 

Sterne. 



LXV. OF INGRATITUDE.-!-(Page ! 

(17.) " Blow, blow, thou winter wind, 
Thou art not so unkind 

As man's ingratitude ; 
Thy tooth is not so keen, 
Because thou art not seen, 
Although thy breath be rude. 

" Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, 
That dost not bite so nigh 

As benefits forgot : 
Though thou the waters warp, 
Thy sting is not so sharp 

As friend remember' d not." 



Shakspeare. 



lxviii. physiognomy. — {Page 92.) 

(18.) " The physiognomy has a considerable share in beauty, 
especially in that of our own species. The manners give a 
certain determination to the countenance; which, being ob- 
served to correspond pretty regularly with them, is capable of 
joining the effects of certain agreeable qualities of the mind to 
those of the body ; so that, to form a finished human beauty ; 
and to give it its full influence, the face must be expressive of 
such gentle and amiable qualities, as correspond with the soft- 
ness, smoothness, and delicacy of the outward form." 

Burke. 



NOTES. 195 



LXXIV. OF TASTE.— (Page 100.) 

(19, 20.) Now, as the pleasure of resemblance is that which 
principally flatters the imagination, all men are nearly equal in 
this point, as far as their knowledge of the things represented or 
compared extends. The principle of this knowledge is very 
much accidental, as it depends upon experience and observa- 
tion, and not on the strength or weakness of any natural 
faculty; and it is from this difference in knowledge, that 
what we commonly, though with no great exactness, call a 
difference in taste, proceeds. A man to whom sculpture is 
new, sees a barber's block, or some ordinary piece of statuary ; 
he is immediately struck and pleased, because he sees some- 
thing like a human figure ; and, entirely taken up with this 
likeness, he does not at all attend to its defects. No person, 
I believe, at the first time of seeing a piece of imitation, ever 
did. Some time after, we suppose that this novice lights 
upon a more artificial work of the same nature ; he now begins 
to look with contempt on what he admired at first ; not that 
he admired it even then for its unlikeness to a man, but for 
that general, though inaccurate resemblance, which it bore to 
the human figure. What he admired at different times in 
these so different figures, is strictly the same ; and though his 
knowledge is improved, his taste is not altered. Hitherto his 
mistake was from a want of knowledge in art, and this arose 
from his inexperience ; but, he may be still deficient from a 
want of knowledge in nature. That critical taste does not 
depend upon a superior principle in men, but upon superior 
knowledge, may appear from several instances. The story 
of the ancient painter and the shoemaker, is very well known. 
The shoemaker set the painter right with regard to some 
mistake he had made in the shoe of one of his figures, and 
which the painter, who had not made such accurate obser- 



196 NOTES. 

vations on shoes, and was content with a general resemblance, 
had never observed. But this was no impeachment to the 
taste of the painter ; it only showed some want of knowledge 
in the art of making shoes. Let us imagine, that an anatomist 
had come into the painter's working room. His piece is in 
general well done, the figure in question in a good attitude, 
and the parts well adjusted to their various movements ; yet 
the anatomist, critical in his art, may observe the swell of some 
muscle not quite just in the peculiar action of the figure. 
Here the anatomist observes what the painter had not ob- 
served ; and he passes by what the shoemaker had remarked. 
But a want of the last critical knowledge in anatomy no more 
reflected on the natural good taste of the painter, or of any 
common observer of his piece, than the want of an exact 
knowledge in the formation of a shoe. A fine piece of a decol- 
lated head of St. John the Baptist, was shown to a Turkish 
Emperor ; he praised many things, but he observed one defect, 
that the skin did not shrink from the wounded part of the 
neck. The Sultan on this occasion, though his observation 
was very just, discovered no more natural taste than the 
painter who executed this piece, or than a thousand European 
connoisseurs who probably never would have made the same 
observation. His Turkish Majesty had indeed been well 
acquainted with that terrible spectacle, which the others could 
only have represented in their imagination. On the subject 
of their dislike, there is a difference between all these people, 
arising from the different kinds and degrees of their knowledge ; 
but there is something in common to the painter, the shoe- 
maker, the anatomist, and the Turkish Emperor, the pleasure 
arising from a natural object, so far as each perceives it 
justly imitated ; the satisfaction in seeing an agreeable figure ; 
the sympathy proceeding from a striking and affecting incident. 
So far as taste is natural, it is nearly common to all." 

Burke " on Taste." 



NOTES. 197 

Bulwer in his " Athens," Vol. II. chap, ii, Book 3, re- 
marks upon the Athenians' acquaintance with the poems of 
Homer — which resulted from the labours and example of Pisis- 
tratus.— " This event," (for event it was) he continues, "com- 
bined with other causes, — the foundation of a public library, 
the erection of public buildings, and the institution of public 
gardens, — to create with apparent suddenness amongst a 
susceptible and lively population, a general cultivation of 
taste. The citizens were brought together in their hours of 
relaxation* by the urbane and social manner of life, under 
porticos and in gardens, which it was the policy of a graceful 
and benignant tyrant to inculcate; and the native genius, 
hitherto dormant, of the quick Ionian race, once awakened to 
literary and intellectual subjects, created an audience even 
before it found expression in a poet." 



lxxvii. of suicide. — (Page 114.) 
(21.) " If you are distressed in mind, live — serenity and 
joy may yet dawn upon your soul. 

* " The taste of a people," he says in the note, " which is 
to art what public opinion is to legislation, is formed, like 
public opinion, by habitual social intercourse and collision. 
The more men are brought together to converse and discuss, 
the more the principles of a general, national taste will become 
both diffused and refined. Less to their climate, to their 
scenery, to their own beauty of form, than to their social 
habits and preference of the public to the domestic life, did 
the Athenians, and the Grecian republics generally, owe that 
wonderful susceptibility to the beautiful and harmonious, which 
distinguishes them above all nations, ancient and modern. 
Solitude may exalt the genius of a man, but communion 
alone can refine the taste of a people." 
k 3 



198 



" If you have been contented and cheerful, live — and gene- 
rously diffuse that happiness to others. 

" If misfortunes have befallen you by the faults of others, 
live — you have nothing wherewith to reproach yourself. 

" If you are indigent and helpless, live — the face of things 
may agreeably change. 

" If you are rich and prosperous, live — and enjoy what you 
possess. 

" If another hath injured you, live — his own crime will be 
his punishment. 

" If you have injured another, live — and recompense it by 
your good offices. 

" If your character be attacked unjustly, live — time will 
remove the aspersion. 

" If the reproaches be well-founded, live — and deserve them 
not for the future. 

" If you are already eminent and applauded, live — and pre- 
serve the honours which you have acquired. 

" If your success be not equal to your merit, live — in the 
consciousness of having deserved it. 

" If your success hath exceeded your merit, live — and arro- 
gate not too much to yourself. 

" If you have been negligent, and useless to society, live — 
and make amends by your future conduct. 

" If you have been active and industrious, live — and com- 
municate your improvements to others. 

" If you have spiteful enemies, live — and disappoint their 
malevolence. 

" If you have kind and faithful friends, live— to bless and 
protect them. 

" If you have been wise and virtuous, live— for the future 
benefit of mankind ; — and lastly, 

" If you hope for immortality, live — and prepare to enjoy 
it." 



NOTES. 199 



LXX1X. REMARKS ON CHILDREN. — {Page 117.) 

(22.) " Now, as I consider the person who is to be about 
my son as the mirror in which he is to view himself from 
morning to night, and by which he is to adjust his looks, his 
carriage, and, perhaps, the inmost sentiments of his heart, — I 
would have one, Yorick, if possible, polished at all points, fit 
for my child to look into. ' This is very good sense,' quoth my 
uncle Toby to himself. 

" It is for these reasons, continued my father, that the gover- 
nor I make choice of shall neither lisp*, nor squint, nor wink, 
nor talk loud, nor look fierce, nor foolish, nor bite his lips, nor 
grind his teeth, nor speak through his nose nor pick it, nor 
blow it with his fingers. 

" He shall neither walk fast, nor slow, nor fold his arms, — for 
that is laziness ; nor hang them down, — for that is folly; nor 
hide them in his pocket, — for that is nonsense. 

" He shall neither strike, nor pinch, nor tickle, — nor bite, nor 
cut his nails, nor hawk, nor spit, nor snift, nor drum with his 
feet or fingers in company : — * * * * 

• ******. 

" I will have him, continued my father, cheerful, facete, 
jovial ; at the same time prudent, attentive to business, vigi- 
lant, acute, argute, inventive, quick in resolving doubts and 
speculative questions ; — he shall be wise, and judicious, and 
learned. ' And why not humble, and moderate, and gentle- 
tempered, and good?' said Yorick. ' And why not,' cried my 
uncle Toby, ' free, and generous, and bountiful, and brave ? ' 
'He shall,' my dear Toby, replied my father, getting up and 
shaking him by his hand. ' Then, brother Shandy,' answered 
my uncle Toby, raising himself off the chair, and laying down 



Vide Pellegrina. 



200 NOTES. 

his pipe to take hold of my father's other hand,—' I humbly beg 
I may recommend poor Le Fevre's son to you' — (a tear of joy 
of the first water sparkled in my uncle Toby's eye, and ano- 
ther, the fellow to it, in the Corporal's, as the proposition was 
made) — you will see why, when you read Le Fevre's story." 

Sterne. 



17th dereliction. — (Page 127.) 

(23.) Hints from the " Cobbler of Cripplegate."—Vide the 
London Chronicle, 1761, Vol. IX., p. 375. 



" He could wish to see butchers' boys, who gallop through 
the streets of London, punished for so doing, or at least their 
horses seized for the use of the poor of the parish in which 
they so offend ; for, though a poor man's life may not be worth 
preserving, his limbs may be of use to him while he crawls 
upon the earth. 

" Brewers starting their butts in the day time, he considers 
as an intolerable nuisance. 

" Ruinous houses ought to be pulled down, because they may 
as well tumble upon the head of an alderman, as upon that of 
a cobbler. 

" A regulation in S mi thfield market, he thinks, ought to take 
place, because a mad ox may as well gore the lady of a Knight 
Banneret as a poor oyster-wench. 

" Worn-out hackney coaches should, in a particular manner 
be looked into, because none but those in easy circumstances 
can be affected by their breaking down in the streets. This 
regulation in no shape regards my family, because I never 



201 



suffer my Moll to enter one till I have first properly sur- 
veyed it. 

" That cheesemongers should not set out their butter 
and cheese so near the edge of their shop-windows, nor 
put their firkins in the path- ways, by which many a good coat 
and silk gown may be spoiled ; as by advertising in the papers, 
his shop will be sufficiently known, without carrying home the 
shop-bill upon their clothes. 

" Ladders, pieces of timber, &c, should by no means be 
suffered to be carried upon men's shoulders within the posts of 
the city, — because by a sudden stop, they may as well poke out 
the eye of a rich man — as that of a poor one. 

" Chairmen, as they are a kind of human nags, ought to 
amble without side the posts, as well as other brutes. 

c ! Long swords are a nuisance in the city at change- time, as 
the wearer may very well receive a bill without that dangerous 
weapon ; and as it is not often he comes into it to pay one. 

" Churches are no places to sleep in, because, if a person 
snores too loud, he not only disturbs the congregation, but is 
apt to ruffle the preacher's temper. 

" Barbers and chimney-sweepers have no right, by charter, to 
rub against a person well-dressed, and offer him satisfaction 
by single combat. 

" Splashing a gentleman with white silk stockings designedly, 
is a breach of decency, and utterly unknown at Wapping, or 
Hockley in the Hole. 

" That reading these hints, and not endeavouring to redress 
them — will be a fault somewhere, but not in 

"Crispin." 



INDEX 



APHORISMS 



Page 
135 



19. Ball Room. The 



77 



5. Carriage. The 


. 3 


11. Calls. Morning 


. 7 


14. Conscience 


. 9 


21. Church. The service 


. 14 


32. Chess .... 


. 40 



20* INDEX. 




No. 


Page 


33. Church. The .'.''. 


. . .42 


38. Conversation, General 


. 54 


39. Cookery. Tahle 


. 55 


55. Cards .... 


. 74 


56. Cards. Coloured 


■• 74 


78. Charity. .... 


. .115 


79. Children. Remarks on 


.115 



9. Dress 
10. Dress. Ladies' 

26. Death . '. 

27. Duelling 
37. Dinner 

41. Drunkenness 
52. Diary. The 
61. Dependants. Conduct to 
Derelictions . 



27 
28 
51 
57 
70 
78 
124 



30. Elocution 
45. Ennui 



48. Friendship 
66. Flattery 
80. Freemasonry 



63 
89 
118 



205 



No. 

23. Gentleman. The . 

71. Gown. The Dressing 



Page 
20 



15. Hypocrisy . 


. 9 


18. Habit 


. 11 


47. Hope 


. 62 


62. Home. Not at 


. 81 


70. Hair. The . 


. 95 


72. Horseback 


. 97 



2. Impudence 
35. Ingratitude 



7. Lover. The 
53. Letters. On Writing 



1. Mauvaise-honte 
3. Modesty 
24. Marriage 



No. 

29. Music. On the effect of 

31. Magistracy. The 

46. Mercy 

58. Memory 



Page 
33 
30 
61 
76 



54. Notes. On 



73 



64. Oaths 



17. Parents. Duty 


TO . -' . 


. 10 


4. Pride 




. 45 


57. Phraseology . 




. 75 


59. Profession. Choice of 


. 77 


63. Parties 




. 83 


68. Physiognomy 




. 92 


75. Poetry 




. 102 


76. Phrenology . 




. 109 



Q. 



20. QUADRILLE, 

44. Quarrel 



The 



SO' 



No. 


Page 


4. Rencontre. The . 


. 2 


16. Reading. Of 


. 10 


36. Rising. Of early 


. 50 


42. Roue. The .... 


. 58 


43. Reputation 


. 60 



6. Stairs. The 


. 4 


8. Smoker. The 


. 5 


,13. Shame. False 


. 8 


49. Sabhath. The 


. 63 


51. Seduction . 


. 67 


77. Suicide . . • . 


. 113 



35. Time 


. 48 


50. Temper 


.65 


69. Teeth. The 


. 93 


73. Tag. A 


. 97 


74. Taste 


. 99 



28. Voice. The 
67. Virtue 



90 



208 



w. 

No. 

12. Whist 

22. Woman. Of 

25. Will. The last 

40. Wine. 



FINIS. 



LONDON : 
TRINIBD BY T. BREITiJLL, RUPERT STREET, HAYMARKKT. 



MAY 



r 






LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

iiiiiuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiir 

021 899 099 A 



IP 



^H 







